Worth Killing For
by Demonhunter2
Summary: After a spirit possesses Sam the brothers try to figure out what the spirit wants and in the process find out some secrets are worth kill for. Fixed previous glich in first chapter. Chapter 14 and 15 are up and the story is complete!
1. Chapter 1 Joy riding

**Hey everyone here is chapter 1 of Hidden Secrets, I have written 7 chapters so far so they will come one after another hopefully. **

**To anyone who read what was post first I apologize I posted a chapter with all 7 chapters and I had to delete the story just to fix the problem, and that is why it was so long. Hope you guys like the story.**

**Disclaimer: No ownership here**

**Warning: This story has course language, sexual situation, and it touchs on the subject of rape and coping mechanism. Although this chapter is pretty tame LOL!!!**

Chapter One---Joy Riding

Dean was sitting in the passenger seat of his baby, starring at his little brother and wondering what the hell had happened to him.

Sam caught Dean starring at him and said humorously

"What? You need to catch-up with the times. This is Nirvana, they are an alternative rock band. You know grunge, it started in the 70's with the Sex pistols, The Ramones..." Sam rattled off, counting the bands off on his fingers.

"Dude, I know who The Sex pistols and The Ramones are. Who do you think introduced you to them?" Dean shot back; taken a back a little at his brother's attempt to teach him about rock.

Ignoring Dean, Sam continued with his lesson "Groups like Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, and Nirvana where all part of the Seattle movement, a flood of groups from Seattle. They introduced a new sound and revived the rock scene" Sam enfized the word revived.

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam's new tone, who was now speaking as if he was a professor and Dean was his student. Dean let out a annoyed sign, his brother was not going to shut-up anytime soon.

"Thanx for the lesson professor now shut-up and play something good." Dean reached down to his shoe box for his favorite Metallica cassette.

Sam's smile widened as he cranked up the volume. He began to sing "I'm so happy 'cause today I found my friends, their in my head. I'm so ugly but that's okay so are you"

Dean couldn't stop starring, he was certain Sam was calling him ugly. When the song got to the chorus, Sam cranked it up all the way, started to bang his hand on the steering wheel. Once again Sam began to sing, which sounded more like yelling.

Dean cringed at Sam's attempt at singing, "Dude, this is the last time I let you choose the music." Still rifling through his collection, wondering where that damne cassette had gone.

"Sorry, can't hear you the music is too loud" Sam couldn't stop laughing, his brother's torture and facial expression at that very moment was priceless.

He wished he had a camera to capture the moment.

He had finally got his revenge for all the mullet rock he had been forced to listen to for a whole year. Sam caught Dean's hand reaching for the volume and slapped it. "Driver picks the music, shotgun.." Before he could finish his brother's words he felt a sharp pain on the side of his arm. "AHHH!!! Geez man what was that for?"

Dean lowered the music. "Don't you ever slap my hand again" The tone of his voice and the look on his face meant that he had enough of Sam's crap. "I'm driving"

"Come on, I was only joking." Sam mumbled still rubbing the bruise on his arm, his face set in a pout.

The younger brother had not meant to offend Dean, he only wanted to introduce some real music to his big brother. Some real groups that actually made good music, wanting to bring his brother up to date with more current music.

He knew how to melt his big brother's heart, and flashed Dean, his patent puppy dog eyes. Softening his tone he repeated himself "I was just joking"

"Fine." Dean mumbled something about alternative rock, and The Sex pistols, and that is when Sam knew he really crossed a line questioning Dean's knowledge of Rock.

They where silent for the next two hours when Dean finally spoke, the irratation still evident in his voice. "Rochester should be about 90 miles from here, take a left."

Sam started to feel light headed, his vision become blurred, he closed his eyes and let out a small moan.

Still very annoyed Dean hadn't noticed Sam dropping his head.

Suddenly Sam slammed on the brakes.

Dean was thrust forward towards the dashboard only to be saved by his outreaching arms. "SON OF A BITCH, WHAT THE..." Dean turned his head to see Sam was out cold and panic and guilt coursed through him.

"Sammy? Sammy? You okay?" When he got no response his big brother/protector mode kicked in and Dean started to lightly shake his little brother still unconcious body.

"Sammy you okay?" Dean was mentally kicking himself for yelling at his little brother, Sam was just having a little fun which was rare for his grumpy ass.

Sam just sat there, his breathing was normal and there where no apparent injury, what had happened? Sam was only out for a few moments, but it felt like he was never going to wake-up.

Dean decided to try again; he put his hand on Sam's shoulder "Sam? Come on man I'm not mad. Come on" Dean's voice was small but calm never allowing his worry and fear to show.

Just then Sam's head jerked-up and Dean jumped, before he could ask if Sam was okay, Sam quickly threw the car into reverse, backed out ten metres, swiftly threw the gear back into drive, Dean's eyes widened in horror as Sam did a sharp 180 turn that almost landed them in the ditch.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean half demanded, half shouted.

Sam sat there with a blank stare at the road, Dean's question never registering.

Dean's breathing started to increase; his heart was pounding, fear and panic coursing through him.

What was wrong with Sam? Why was he not responding and where were they going? Dean's hand was still on the younger boy's shoulder, his palms where becoming moist with sweat and he could feel some of it pooling on Sam's shoulder. He had to try again.

"Sam you okay? Sam?" Dean's voice calm, and even, never betraying him.

Still no response.

The speed limit was 50 and Sam was going 70, passing other drivers, once nearly crashing into an on coming truck.

That was the last straw; whatever had a hold on Sam Dean would have to take matters into his hands. He cringed slightly at the thought of crashing his baby, but if he swerved the car into the ditch the likeliness of serious damage would be minimal.

He reached for the steering wheel and was met with the back of Sam's fist to his face causing him to fly backwards into the window.

"Son of a bitch" Still no response from Sam he was just staring forward, his driving becoming more erratic. Touching his index finger to his bleeding upper lip Dean was convinced his little brother was possessed.

"Christo" Dean spat out watching and hoping for signs of a demonic possession. The elder hunter would have taken a possession happily, he would know what to do, what to expect, how to help his little brother.

Still no response.

"Hey zombie-boy, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Dean couldn't help yelling, this situation was getting out of hand and it seemed like there was nothing he could do.

More erratic driving. Dean was now convinced his brother was going to kill him if he didn't have any protection he buckled his seat belt.

Sam made another very sharp right turn driving into the country. The smell of manure invaded Dean's nostrils, he cringed his face at the offensive smell.

He turned to Sam, nothing. How could he not smell this, it was pungent and overwhelming. They must have past 4 farms and the further they went the rougher the road got until they reached a dirt road. Dust and small pebbles started to cover the classic ride.

Dean's anxiety, and fear was reaching new heights, he shifted his eyes from the road and his surroundings to his brother.

He just sat there with no response, no emotions. This wasn't the Sam Dean knew.

Another sharp turn but this time into a farm. There where no crops growing, no animals grazing, and no pungent manure smell. Dean didn't know if that was good sign or bad, until Sam brought the Impala to a complete stop in front of run a down farm house.

Sam once again dropped his head and closed his eyes.

"Sam, Sammy come on, talk to me man" Dean spoke with a soft tone while placing his hands gently on Sam's shoulders, hoping his little brother would finally respond. A soft moan came from Sam and he slowly lifted his head to meet a frantic look on his older brother's face.

Sam blinked a few times clearly confused.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked with a worried and confussed voice.

Dean couldn't believe his ears, after what just happened Sam was asking him if he was okay?

"Your lip is bleeding" Sam said his confusion growing as he studied his elder brother's busted lip.

"You hit me" Dean spat, anger and shock evident in his voice, his eyes never leaving Sam's face.

"I..I did? I don't remember hitting you" Sam's voice was small and filled with total confusion. Looking around he realized they were no longer on the interstate; he turned to Dean for answers

"This isn't the interstate? Where are we?"

Dean dropped his hands and returned them to his side, he began to rub his forehead trying to force the frustration away.

"No idea, but we're not in Kansas anymore To to. What the fuck happened there Sammy?" Dean asked hoping Sam would shine some light on his freak behaviour.

"I brought us here? I...I don't remember driving here. We should check it out" Sam said as he reached for the door.

Before Dean could protest Sam exited the car and quickly examined the house in front of them.

Dean followed, after the stunt Sam had just pulled there was no way he was going to investigate this on his own.

The house in front of them was a typical Victorian style home. Its paint had faded away and chipped everywhere, there where some spots of white paint visible.

In front of the house were three wooden steps with a hand rail leading to a small porch. And an average size storm door was open and hanging on for dear life by one hinge, a large broken rectangular window was to the left of the door.

The landscape was overgrown with grass, weeds, wild plants, and some other plants that where mostly likely planted by the original owners and survived without human intervention. Dean ventured towards the house first; Sam swallowed and took a deep breath in. A sudden wave of dread overcame him; once he reached the steps he placed a hand on the hand rail.

_"NO Please, don't hurt them" A man slammed against the hard wooden floor screaming for mercy. "Please don't hurt them"_

Sam quickly took his hand off the railing, taking in sharp breaths.

What was that? Who was that? Sam could feel his heart raising, pounding, he tried to control his breathing, he willed his heart to slow. The fear, and dread that he felt moments ago was increasing, and it quickly became evident why they had been brought here.

"Sam you okay?" Dean was standing on the porch in front of the door, obviously blocking something.

"Yeah, I'm..I'm fine" Sam lied, he had to. He knew Dean wouldn't let this go further if he knew he wasn't 100.

"Check this out" Sam climbed the three steps praying he wouldn't fall through as he heard each one creak and moan under the pressure. When he reached the top, Dean moved.

Sam was shocked...This couldn't be right...could it?

On the door was the word "MURDERER" spray painted in black letters.

"And that one" Dean pointed to the one on the right that said "RAPIST". "Where did you bring us Sammy?" No response. Dean cursed under his breath. Sam placed his hand on the door.

_A man spray painting MURDERER on the door, laughing with his buddies. Another man opening the door "What are you doing"_

_"NO please, don't hurt them." The same man slammed down hard on the wooden floor "Please don't hurt them"_

Sam removed his hand once more, panting, heart racing, sweaty palms, and small beads racing down the side of his forehead. He turned to Dean and said "Something terrible happened here"

"You're sensing this" Dean asked his face filled with curiosity.

"I saw it" Sam whispered in a small voice.

"You had a vision? Don't they usually hurt?" Dean muttered tight lipped. The anger and frustration at the situation was threatening to boil over.

Another terrifing scream came from the house and Sam ran to the broken window and saw a man lying on the ground bleeding, pleading, and screaming in agony.

"Dean someone is in there" Sam went into rescue mode and moved towards the broken window but was stopped by Dean's quick hands.

"Sam, there's no one inside" Dean yelled. Sam looked again at the window and into the living room and saw nothing. No man, no blood, nothing.

"Come on, let's go into town. We'll go and get something to eat and do some research" Waiting for a response and getting none he added "Okay Sammy?"

"Yeah, alright." Sam reluctantly muttered, his eyes still staring into the abandoned house.

Sam headed for the driver's side and was quickly met by his brother's face which was a mix of anger, frustration, and a small amout of fear.

"Are you kidding me, you really think you're driving her after what you just pulled." He grinned at Sam and held out his hand "You're not driving her until we figure things out."

Sam pulled out the keys from his jean pocket and handed them to their rightful owner. Dean started her up and was grateful that Sam and his psycho driving hadn't caused any problems. They weren't a few feet away when Dean suddenly stopped the car, pressed the eject button and flung the Nirvana cassette at Sam's chest and then continued to drive.

It didn't take long for them to find the nearest town, a small quaint tourist town called Stratford about ten miles north. Road Sevenity-five lead them directly to downtown which had mainly stone buildings, lots of stores, upper class cafes, iron rod light posts with huge pots filled with various plants many of which where flowers; spring was in full bloom.

The sidewalks where not your typical concrete but stone set in an attractive pattern. Farther down more shops, galleries, a few offices, and a moderate sized lake to the left with swans and ducks swimming.

Weeping Willows adorned the edge of the pond along with various people on their lunch break and enjoying the break from winter's icy grip. Further down was a stage theatre with various signs advertising The Stratford Festival, obviously the main attraction for the town.

Dean took in a deep breath taking in the fragrant warm air; he widened his smile not even noticing he had been smiling ever since they entered the small town.

Sam finally was able to relax, Dean didn't appear to be upset at him anymore and he smiled and started to take in the sights and smells of the town as well.

"Hey, Sammy. Gourmet Pizza" Dean said as he nodded to the left towards another stone building. The smell of freshly wood-fired pizza filling the air, both brothers took a deep breath in, taking in the appetizing smell of pizza, wood-fire pizza.

In unison they said "MMMMMMM!!!"

"Let's get some" Dean said as he searched for parking.

"Let's find a motel first" Sam suggested as he glanced over at Dean

"Come on, I'm hungry" Dean said horrified that Sam would miss the opportunity to eat.

"Yeah so am I. But we can get some after we unload our stuff, we can eat in" Sam said flatly rubbing the back of his head.

"Fine. What's wrong with your head, did that vision hurt?" Dean mumbled, already feeling sad at the thought of not getting his pizza.

"What?" Sam gave Dean a strange look. "My head doesn't hurt" Dean starred at Sam for a while not realizing the red light now was green, his thoughts broken by the sound of the guy in the car behind them becoming impatient.

It didn't take long to find a cheap motel just a few blocks down the road. They checked in and actually got a decent room. Two full sized beds with handmade quilts on top, a small white side table with gold trim housed a large lamp with two solid white children playing as the base, a white shade with gold and clear bead trim around the base.

In the corner beside the washroom was a matching dresser, in the other corner matching wicker table and chair. The walls where painted a pale yellow and was adorned with various paintings of children playing near a lake, an ocean scene, and some stills of fruit and flowers.

The boys looked around; this was a little too nice. Dean became suspicious; there must be a catch, the bathroom. He dropped his duffle and moved towards the bathroom and upon entering was greeted by a strange smell, what was that? Dean winced slightly; potpourri.

The bathroom was small but it was clean, plenty of supplies, and an ample supply of clean white towels. Apparently there was no catch; this was just a decent motel for a decent price.

Most likely for the tourists who expected a decent room for a cheap price. When he exited the bathroom Sam was sitting on his bed rubbing the back of his head once again. Taking a deep breath and shaking his head he walked around the bed and announced he was going for some pizza.

Sam raised his head and nodded in acknowledgement, Dean breathed in another deep breath but this time in relief that Sam actually acknowledged him this time.

Dean returned quickly with two large boxes, after getting a free sample from the very attractive, and flirtatious, cashier he decided that this was the best pizza he had ever had and was going to have some for breakfast.

Noting Sam still on the bed, he was pleased to see Sam had stopped rubbing the back of his head but shook his head angrily at the vacant look on his face.

"Best Damn pizza in town Sammy." Dean waited for a reply and got none, once again. Sam just sat there leaning against the head board, where his thoughts had taken him god only knew. Setting the boxes down the eldest walked over to him and waved his hand in front of Sam's eyes, which successfully brought him back.

"Dean, you're back." Sam said clearly confused, his eyes vacant as he registered his elder brother.

Dean smiled a wear smile at this, Sam's strange behaviour was already wearing thin on his patients. It was obvious this was not going to be straightforward hunt. Dean could feel pressure building in the back of head at the situation.

"Sam, I've been back for five minutes. I was talking to you, you didn't hear me." Dean said flatly but very seriously.

He paused to get a response from Sam and got none once again, so he continued. "What the hell is going on Sam? You're not yourself, first there was you're psychotic driving, then those visions, then you were seeing people who are not there, rubbing the back of your head, and now your zoning out." Dean reeled off; once again Sam never answered him, causing the elder brother to raise an eyebrow.

Sam took a deep breath in and turned towards his older brother as Dean sat down.

"I just have this overwhelming feeling of dread. Whatever happened there, at the farmhouse, it was..." Sam began to rub his hands nervously, starring at the carpeted floor, he was lost for words, how was he going to explain what he felt coming from the house; the images he saw.

That man who was he? Why was he begging for someone else not to be hurt? Had they survived?

At this thought Sam got a pit in his stomach, he knew the answer to that question. Sam's hands started to shake, he began to rub them together to mask the shaking.

Sam's breathing started to increase, the images scared him, he could feel himself start to panic. Taking in deep breaths trying to calm himself, to take back some control.

Sam began to loose himself in his thoughts, the images, the dread, it started to overwhelm him. He was brought back by Dean shaking him lightly, both of his hands where on Sam's shoulders.

"Sam, hey. What? What did you see?" Dean said gently, trying hard not to reveal his own emotions. He has never seen his brother react this way to a ghost, spirit, or whatever it was that had a hold on him.

"I think...I saw someone being murdered. Possibly more than one" Sam raised his head and looked directly into Dean's eyes, he wasn't able to gage what his brother was thinking, what his emotions where.

_Damn those masks he wears, just let me know you don't think I'm crazy. _

Dean dropped his arms, and in an unemotional tone said "Are you sure, you actually saw them get murdered"

Sam shook his head "No I didn't, but the scene I saw I don't think they survived." As hard as Sam tryed to mask his emotions, his voice quivered, and he could control the shaking in his hands that now was spreading to his arms, he shivered slightly at the thought of witnessing yet another murder.

"Alright, we do our research and try and figure out what this spirit wants" Dean said in a tried tone.

Dean then got-up and opened the first box of pizza, happy to find it was still reasonably warm considering how long ago he had bought it. Dean sat at the wicker table and ate his food, not really noticing that Sam had resumed his previous posture and vacant stare at the wall.

After eating Dean opened his laptop and began to search, it didn't take long for him to find the information, it was much worse than he had expected.

Turning towards Sam to speak, he became disturbed to find Sam drawing pictures in a notebook. He was concentrating on his work, maybe a little too hard, page after page, flipping each page and starting a new one, each time leading to more drawings and more flipping.

Dean sat there for an hour watching his brother fill the once empty note book with random drawings. Sam finally stopped, flipped the book over and opened it from the beginning. Flipping through the pictures, he lifted-up his head and looked at his older brother who had a very uneasy look on his face.

Now Sam knew how Dean felt, he thought Sam was going crazy; hell he thought he was going crazy.

Clearing his throat, Sam spoke "Uh Dean...you should see what I just drew."

Dean stretched his hand out, Sam got-up, and handed the notebook to Dean. The first few pictures where of a normal nice couple and their baby, they looked happy. The further he went the more disturbing the drawings became. Men throwing the nice couple down to the ground, beating the man, he had an injury to the back of his head.

The woman was being stabbed, flipping the pages, her eyes glazed over, tears in the man's eyes, flipping more pages, the baby on the floor bleeding, Dean cringed and felt sick to his stomach at this, more flipping the man was dead. Dean flipped the page again.

No drawings, just the words "Innocent" and "Help me" written everywhere, page after page.

Dean closed the notebook and threw it on the table, took a deep breath and looked-up at Sam who was obviously freaked-out by what he'd just drew.

"Sam, you remember drawing these." Sam nodded his head.

Wanting to change the subject Sam asked "Did you find anything out?"

"Oh, yeah. You're going to love this. The farm and the house where bought by Chris and Janis Green, they had a daughter named Kate. They moved here five years ago, six months after they got here Chris is accused of raping and murdering a fifteen year old girl." Dean took in a deep breath, and rubbed at his tired eyes.

Apparently the prosecution had a very strong case." Pausing to get a response from Sam. "Then they mysteriously disappeared, the jury found the guy guilty."

Another pause, now it appeared that Sam was getting angry, Dean continued "But get this, the police say there was no evidence of foul-play, they think they just ran-off, proving his guilt"

"No foul-play?" Sam shook his head in disbelief "Dean you saw that house, someone killed that family, how can the police say no foul-play?" Sam unwittingly raised his voice to a shout.

"Sam, I'm just telling you what it says here, calm down." Dean said his face wrinkled at Sam's over the top reaction.

"Sorry, I'm not..." Sam turned around rubbing his face, walking towards his bed; he didn't want to finish his sentence.

"Alright, just get some sleep, we will figure things out tomorrow." Dean said with a tried sigh; this was proving to be more trying than he had first imagine.

Looking down at his watch to remove it, Dean needed a nice long shower to clear his mind and to reveal the headache that now was begining to overwhelm him. The elder man looked-up again at Sam and was happy to see that he was fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2 A Cold Spring Day

**Here is chapter 2 things are going to heat up in this chapter, Please R&R**

**Chapter 2-A Cold Spring Day**

Sam watched as the sun began its slow rise from the horizon, the bright light illuminating the once dark skies, its heat warming the chilly spring morning, a broken twin sit still in the clear waters. Various bugs swarmed near the water's edge, some venturing farther. The light breeze gracefully flew through the branches of the Weeping Willows causing it to gently sway back and forth. It was a gentle movement that caused a hushed rustling sound. A harmonious song of a bird could be heard in the background; Sam recognized it as a Cardinal. It reminded him of the time when they had a brief stay in Ontario, Canada. John went there for a job, he couldn't remember what his father was hunting at the time, but he remembers the sweet sound of the bird waking him every morning. It was one of the few nice memories of his childhood.

Sam rubbed his hands together in hopes of relieving the chill in them. Lifting his head he spotted a pair of swans ushering their new cygnet_s_ in search of food. Sam took a deep breath and slowly expelled it, he quickly got-up from the rock that he was sitting on, stuck his hands into his pockets and swiftly walked away. The park was beautiful and normally it would help clear his mind, maybe feel some solace in its beauty. He found none, all he found was the constant bombardment of fear. It overwhelmed him, took a hold of him, never allowing relief.

Sam finally reached the sidewalk and began to walk back to the motel, so many questions, and so little answers.

_Why were the Greens killed? Was it because Chris killed that girl? Did he kill that girl? What had happened to him in the car? Had one of the spirits possessed him?_

There where no answers, the last question scared him, if the spirit could possess him once, what would stop it from doing it again? Would it use him to do something he didn't want to do? Would it want revenge? At that Sam shivered, the idea of unwittingly hurting someone, even if they where guilty of murder, it was terrifying and unsettling thought.

Sam arrived at the motel quickly; he knew he would find the answers to his questions at the farm house. He was determined to go back; he contemplated waking Dean but decided against it. He was more than capable of going down there by himself, this spirit had communicated with him, and he felt a connection. He would be back before Dean even noticed he was gone, and hopefully there would be no supernatural intervention, and he was certain this spirit wasn't malevolent; there was no need to wake Dean.

When he got to the Impala, he tried the door, it was locked. Even in a small town Dean wouldn't take a chance with his prize possession. "Damn it" He cursed under his breath, the keys where still in the room.

The thought of going back into the room, and potentially wake his brother, was bothering him. He needed answers, and he needed them now. Sam rubbed his face in frustration, and took a deep breath.

Sam dropped his hand, he was a hunter too, his father had taught him well, and no matter how good his brother was he was good at what he did too. He could sneak into the room and not wake Dean.

Now more determined Sam promptly went to the door, as quietly as he could he opened the door. He watched Dean intently as he crept across the room, his nerves where getting the best of him. The younger boy wasn't certain if the elder was still asleep or just waiting to attack. Sam spotted the keys and quietly and slowly grabbed them; he turned to leave, once outside he allowed himself to breath again. He smiled to himself, he was proud that he got into the room unnoticed by Dean, who would be woken by a pin drop. Sam often wondered how his brother got any sleep considering that he was such a light sleeper.

Sam got in, started the car, and made his way to the farm house.

Sam stood beside his brother's car as his eyes scanned the house, following the broken silhouette, the worn brick, rotten wood, the shattered jagged window. His eyes focused on this window; a thick layer of dust made it impossible to see inside, the jagged edges called to him, pleaded him to come inside the house, within its walls of secrets.

Sam shivered at the thought of going inside, the fear and anxiety of earlier had returned and it shook him, it burrowed deep inside of him to his bones. He could feel the pain, fear, despair, and hatred emanating from the house, from its occupants, it made him go cold and he shivered once again.

He started to shake and the hairs on his bare arms stood-up, a puff of smoke escaped his lips despite the now warm air. He was shaking and shivering uncontrollably, wrapping his arms within them in an effort to warm-up.

Sam was becoming anxious, how was it possible for him to be cold on a warm spring day as today? This was a mistake; he should have waited for Dean. What was he thinking coming here by himself?

His breathing began to increase and his heart was pounding, he wanted to leave but the fear and despair paralyzed him. The shaking increased and he began to rapidly rub at his arms, his mind began to scream at him to leave.

As the cold deepened he could hear voices, a sinister laugh, one that took pleasure in the pain of others. Sam took a deep harsh cold breath in, and shakily exhaled it, more laughter, more voices, more pleading.

The shaking increased more, it was becoming harder to breath, his throat was starting to tighten, he gasped for air, feeling the harsh cold air enter his throat and lungs, but no relief as if the air never entered his body.

It was so cold, it was so hard to breath, _please don't hurt them._

Sam grabbed the side of the Impala, and turned to leave when he felt a sudden sharp pain in the back of his head, he staggered forward; his shaky hand went to grab his head and felt something warm, the only warmth he felt. The pain began to seep through him, through his head and his mind; his fingers became numb and stiff. He cursed himself for coming. He didn't know if this spirit was malicious or not. How could he do this to Dean?

Sam fell to the ground and was surprised to find it warm, it invited him, and it embraced him with its promises of relief from the cold.

Sam took in another sharp breath in, still feeling no relief, still no air. Sam brought his hand to his face he was shocked to see blood.

So cold, so cold,

So hard to breath,

_Please don't hurt them._

No air, so cold.

The ground was warm, he would only lie here for a moment, just to warm-up, it was comforting, it was safe, and he would lie here just long enough to be able to leave. As he lied down he realized the warm ground was deceiving. The promised warmth wasn't shared, it deceived him with its promise of warmth and safety, he still shivered and it was becoming more difficult to breath.

Was this how it felt to die? Was he going to die here? Sam didn't want to die; this wasn't how he imagined his death. He didn't want to leave Dean, to never see his father again.

If this was the place where he would die, what would his father do? Would he come to his funeral? His throat tighter more, he gasped for more air, he lied there staring at his bloody hand, he wished he had waited for his big brother, and then he closed his eyes.

Sam woke with a start; he was lying in a house, the farm house? This couldn't be the farm house, it was fully furnished with no dust, no cob-webs, no eerie ghostly feeling.

Sam looked at the walls and saw some black and white photographs on the walls, various original paintings, classically designed grandfather clock stood in a corner, but its arms stayed still. He could feel something warm and turned his head to see a large mahogany fireplace that had a carved design, the top was adorned with vases of different sizes all where white and above it was a large silver framed mirror. A matching sofa and love seat sat across from the fireplace, they too where of mahogany wood, the upholstery were a dusty blue.

His eye scanned the room, and was taken back when he saw a man lying on his stomach beside him with a poker through his throat, his blue eyes where wide open and dead. They belonged to a 30 something man.

They glared at him, pierced his soul, they begged for help, they where Chris's eyes. Sam became overwhelmed by Chris's glare, he tried to get-up but he heard the same sinister laughter.

_"Idiot lost everything for nothing." Sam couldn't see who was talking but figured it was the same one who was laughing._

_"But that's okay; we would have killed you even if you told us where it was." more laughter._

_"Help me Sam, Help me" Chris implored with a thick New York accent "Please help me, I'm trapped" His eyes remained cold and dead._

Sam could feel the tears run down his cold skin, he could see his breath escape his lips once again, and he ran towards the door and into a thick layer of cob-webs. He swatted at them as he turned and looked around the room, the furniture was still there but was covered with dust and cob-webs. A fat spider in a corner advanced on her newest pray, wrapping its victim in silk.

"I need to get out of here" Sam mumbled as he stumbled out of the living room running into the post of the stairs.

He looked-up and saw Chris, bloody, looking down at him, he was doing something, saying something. What was he saying?

_"Help me Sam" _Chris pleaded as he motioned for Sam to come upstairs.

But Sam was terrified, this was a huge mistake, he ran outside grabbing the keys out of his pocket, got inside and started the car. He drove erratically, but he didn't care, he had to get as far away from that house as possible.

Dean lied in his bed; his mind was starting to awaken, becoming aware of the quite and stillness of the room. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, he was content, he had a good night sleep, which hopefully meant Sam had a good night as well. This thought made him smile outwardly and his fingers started to release their tight grip on his knife.

Dean opened one of his eyes, looking at the digital clock he saw a ten, opening the other he saw a forty-three.

His let-out a curious "Huh!" this was a little odd; Sam never let him sleep in this late.

"Sammy, hey you up?" He lifted his head and looked at the neatly made bed.

It was quite, so Sam wasn't taking a shower, he turned his head to the wicker table, and he wasn't typing away at the computer. He thought to himself that Sam must be out getting food; and slumped back into his pillow closing his eyes. He would open them when Sam comes back with his coffee.

After fifteen minutes Dean opened his eyes again, three minutes past eleven. This was weird Sam never allowed him to sleep till eleven, what could Sam be up to that he would let his older brother to stay asleep this late.

Dean got a pit in his stomach and he furrowed his eyebrows together, Sam never let Dean sleep in this late, he knew something wasn't right and he promptly threw the blanket off himself.

"Sammy, you in the can" Dean yelled out hoping Sam would not have done something stupid.

He got-up and ran for his clothes, shaking his head at the thought of Sam going back to the farm. No, his brother was a smart kid, and he knew the ropes, never go anywhere unprepared. He took in a confident and steady breath, yeah Sammy would be just fine, Sam wouldn't do anything without him. Would he?

He slipped on his jeans and threw the first shirt he spotted and went for his keys, his hand froze above their now vacant spot, he could have sworn he left his keys there. Dean dashed to the door after searching the room for the keys, noting the empty parking spot as he ran by.

Sam wouldn't go back to the farm house; Dean kept trying to reassure himself in vain. Maybe he went to the park or for a long drive, Dean would kick Sam's ass for not listening to him.

Dean's eyes darted to each side of the street as he walked briskly, taking hardly any notice to where he was going nearly bumping into several people. He could feel his upper lip quiver slightly, he bite it in an effort to make it stop, _Stay in control._ His breathing increased with his quickened steps, the pit in his stomach from earlier was becoming a vast cavern.

His lips tightened, gritting his teeth, the anger at Sam leaving after what happened to him yesterday was now gnawing away at him, his imagination going wild. Thoughts of Sam possibly going back to the house and encountering a spirit, god only knew if it was malevolent or not, he clenched his fists even more.

Dean looked across the street, the pizza place was open. Maybe Sam went there to get more pizza, he reassured himself successfully this time. As he crossed the street his fists became relaxed, and he allowed his breathing to become regular.

Dean was pleasantly surprised when the lovely and flirtatious waitress of last night was there again.

"Hi Dean" Sophia cheerfully greeted Dean as he entered, she had a slight Hispanic accent.

She was a tall slender woman who looked like she was in her mid twenties; her long brown hair went past her shoulders but was shoulder length with the curls. Her skin was a beautiful brown colour, flawless except for the occasional freckle. Her eyes where green, and she had a high cheek bones, and full lips, she was a stunning Latino woman.

Dean found himself warmed by her smile; there was something familiar about her smile and her sweet disposition. There little chat yesterday was more than the usual flirt that ended-up in the usual place, he got to know her.

"Hi Sophia, how are you?" Dean leaned against the wood and brass bar as he spoke. He almost forgot why he had come into the pizza parlour.

"I'm good. What can I do for you?"

Dean snapped back into his original mission. "I' m looking for someone, my brother, Sam. He has brown shaggy hair, hazel eyes, he's twenty two, and he's freakishly tall."

Sophia laughed she liked his sense of humour it was rare in this town and in her own life. "How freakishly tall?"

"Oh man, you have no idea, he's circus worthy, six four."

Dean felt his worry drift away as he looked into her green eyes. They where warm and kind, they could make a man forget about all his worries.

Amazingly he felt as if Sam was safe and there was no reason to panic. Just by looking into her eyes, as if they had the power to make the problems of the world disappear.

She whistled "That is circus worthy. No, I haven't seen him." She said flatly, and a little too quickly.

"You answered that really quickly, are you sure?" His tone of voice held an edge of suspicion. In his line of business he had to be weary of everyone, no matter how good looking they where.

Sensing his distrust she tried to reassure him. "Six four, trust me I would have noticed." wanting to change the subject she continued. "My boss wants to take advantage of the factory workers who go to the town beside us for work, so we have a great new breakfast menu, are you hungry?"

"He's kind of a geek, where could he go? Is there a library, or historical archive around here? He loves history." He had to stay focused on finding Sam. Hopefully Sam erred on the side of caution and stayed away from the dishevelled home they found.

The thought of Sam going back brought back his original anxiety and he starting to become impatient. Dean started to tap his finger on the bar, and Sophia noted his impatience wondering why Dean was so protective of his younger brother.

"Yeah there is a library on Maple Street." She rounded the bar and reached into a draw and pulled out a map. "It's a little tricky, are you good with directions? Never mind, you look like you are." She unfolded the map on the bar; leaning forward Dean could smell her perfume and tried his best not to be distracted by her cleavage.

She pointed to Myers Street "We are here. You can walk to the library if you take a shortcut." She moved her finger down the map. "So go through the park, make a right at the cathedral and follow the path, that's the tricky part it's a little windy." Dean nodded as he studied the map.

"Then take another right onto Maple, and the library is about five minutes away. But most miss it because the sign is kind of hidden." Dean raised an eyebrow a little surprised.

"People take little interest in that place; they care more about the tourist that come here."

Dean nodded thinking that if Sam heard this he would have been saddened to think people care more about tourists and money than literature, and knowledge.

He turned around to leave but she called out to him "Wait, have you eaten."

"I'll eat when I come back with my brother." He really didn't care about eating he had to find Sam and there was no time to waste.

"I will make you guys something, by the time you come back it will be ready." She turned around to the kitchen to make the boy's food. Dean didn't say anything but he was grateful that someone was thinking of them.

The older hunter quickly walked back to the motel with two coffees and two breakfasts in hand. He was fuming now, Sam was nowhere to be found, and he wasn't answering his cell. His knuckles where now white, his pace quicken, his imagination getting the best of him, he could hear his father yelling at him, wondering how he could loose his brother.

He finally got to the parking lot of the motel, from a distance he could see the tail end of his car, and he let out a sigh of relief and hushed his overactive mind. Sam was fine and the proof was in front of him. But now that he was fine, Dean was once again furious.

He past the Impala, but turned back when he saw the driver's door was open, he stood there for a while staring at it. There was blood on it and when he got closer he could see more blood on the steering wheel.

His blood went cold, he felt his heart skipping a few beats, and his mind screamed at him that Sam was hurt but his body wouldn't respond. In front of him was Sam's blood, not a small amount, this wasn't a minor injury, it was a pool of blood.

_Sam is hurt, move, do something, dam it, do something. What the hell is wrong with you? MOVE. _

At that moment Dean dropped the food and coffee and ran towards their room, the door was open.

"Oh my god" Dean felt the tears form in his eyes, threatening to destroy his facade and expose him as weak.

Again Dean was motionless, and his mind started to yell at him, berating him for not moving, for being weak, for not being more like his father.

He stood in the door frame shocked to see his little brother curled-up on the floor. Their eyes met; Sam's eyes begged and pleaded for help, and Dean's eyes betrayed him.

"Sammy you okay." Dean's voice was reassuring, and comforting, yet fearful.

Sam didn't answer, his protector ran to him and knelt in front of him, shocked and confused at the younger hunter's shivering body. Sam's lips where blue, his skin was a sickening shade of pale blue, a steady stream of tears where flowing down the boy's face over top older dried-up ones. His whole body was violently shaking, his teeth where chattering, and he still hadn't answered Dean.

Dean put his hand onto Sam's arm, he gasped at how cold it felt. "Your freezing...come on we've got to get you warm."

Still nothing, Dean couldn't take it anymore he had to get Sam to respond to him, he grabbed his brother's arms and unintentionally yelled at him

"Sammy, you understand me. Something is wrong; we need to get you warm."

Dean's emotion where taking over, he hated the feeling of not being in control, unable to make things better just by saying a few reassuring words, cracking a joke, or flashing his award winning smile. At this moment he was completely helpless, at the mercy of this damn spirit whose ass he was going to burn later.

"Sam, you understand me?" raising his voice a few decimals.

"Stop yelling at me, Dean. I didn't do anything wrong." Sam finally spoke; his voice was small and child-like. Sam's lips quivered as he spoke, the cold deepening.

"We gotta get you warm...you understand me." Dean's voice was now more confident and strong.

Sam could feel his strength and fed off of it, using it to move beyond what he had seen. He nodded his head, Dean got-up and grabbed Sam's black hoody. Sam put it on.

"Let's get you into bed." Dean helped Sam up, feeling the bone chilling cold emanating from his baby brother's body.

He laid Sam in his bed and laid both of their blankets on top of him. Dean could feel the cold seeping through the blankets as he rubbed Sam's body.

"Sammy are you bleeding? Is it your hand?" Dean reached into the blanket to examine Sam's hand.

"No, it my head." Sam's voice sounded weaker, the shivering increased.

Dean rushed to his duffel and pulled-out the first aid box. He sat down on the other side of the bed and took a deep breath, there was a lot of blood on the car and who knew how bad his head injury was. Dean turned his head and was shocked to see how much blood was on the back of Sam's head, he felt ill. Dean opened the box removing some gauze and rubbing alcohol.

Dean poured the liquid on top of the gauze, some of it falling onto the floor.

"This might sting a little."

Bringing his hand to his baby brother's head Dean found his hand shaking a little; he took another deep breath. _Stay strong, stay in control, Sam needs you._

He got a glimpse of something on Sam's neck; he leaned in more to get a better look at it moving the hood of the sweater he saw a long thin bruise.

"Who attacked you Sam?" Dean's voice was flat and unemotional.

Sam turned around to face Dean "I, I don't know." He lied not wanting Dean to know where he really went. The last thing he needed was to get into an argument.

Dean nodded his head, he knew Sam was lying but he had a job to do, they could go over the details later.

"Your neck, it's um...there is a bruise on it, looks like a wire." Dean's voice was still even and unemotional, but inside he was barely keeping it together.

He wanted to go to the house, salt and burn the damn place. Teach that son of a bitch Green not to mess with his little brother.

"That makes sense." Sam met Dean's eyes. "I was having trouble breathing." Sam's voice was a bit strong but it was obvious it was a forced strength for the benefit of Dean.

Sam turned his head and Dean began to clean the wound. As the gauze brushed against Sam's head it became stained with blood, some of it was caked on and Dean had to work a little to remove some of it. He threw away at least three large pieces.

"It's not that bad." Dean's voice was now racked with emotions. How could there be so much blood from a minor injury?

"Are you just saying that?" Sam put a hand to examine his head.

"What? No, there is hardly anything there." Dean threw the last of the gauze onto the floor; his voice was filled with anger. He got-up, walked to the table with a coffee maker, and a electric kettle, filling the kettle with bottled water so he could make some tea.

"Where the hell did you go?" Dean bluntly asked never facing Sam..

Sam could feel his older brother's anger; he knew eventually he would have to go down this road he just didn't expect it to come this soon.

Sam's silence answered Dean's question. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You know the deal Sam; you know not to go anywhere unprepared. What the hell were you thinking? We have no idea what this son of a bitch wants. What the hell where you thinking?" His voice becoming angrier and louder as he spoke, Dean didn't turn his face to look at his brother.

"Damn it, answer me." Dean turned around, his hands where in a fist again, ready to punch someone.

"I needed answers, and I knew I would find them there." Despite his weakened state Sam's voice was strong; he was going to stand his ground even if he knew Dean was right.

"You needed answers. That's why we do research, on the internet, in the library, with the people here." Dean paused to get a response, but Sam just lied there, he was going to stand his ground on his decision.

"We don't go to a house we know is haunted unprepared." Dean yelled.

Sam sat-up facing Dean, his lips where still blue but some of their true colour was coming back. His skin was still very pale, and he was still shivering, it appeared as if Sam was trying to control the shivering, forcing himself to get better at very little success.

"My spidey-senses where tingling." Sam smiled trying to lighten the mood.

"When I tell you not to do something you don't do it." The elder hunter blurted-out, he himself wondered where the hell it had came from. He sounded just like their father, but he wasn't going to take it back. He was in the right; Sam should have listened to him.

"Excuse me. Who the hell do you think you are? Dad?" Sam's control over his shaking was gone and it had become stronger than before. "So now you give me orders?" Sam said shakily.

"Damn right I am giving you orders. Maybe that way you will listen, maybe I have been going about this the wrong way. I think dad had the right idea, you obviously need someone to give you orders."

Dean could see the anger and shock in Sam's face, he regretted it, but this stance had to be taken, Sam could have gotten himself killed.

Sam lied down and turned around. He wanted to argue more but he had no strength to. Dean wished he could take it back, but he told Sam to wait 'til they knew more, to not touch his car. Not that he was more worried about the car than his brother, what if Sam got into an accident because of this spirit.

He turned around and watched as the steam rose out of the spout, he poured the hot water into a mug for tea. Waiting for the tea to steep he slammed his fist onto the table, the loud thump made Sam jump.

The elder brother couldn't believe the younger would put his life in danger after all the training they both went through, all the hunts they had gone on. Since when is Sam this reckless?

He picked-up the mug and placed it on the table. "Here's some tea, it will warm you-up. You should take a shower after you're done."

Sam didn't say anything, and Dean knew why. They spent the rest of the day like this, Dean only left to get more food but Sam didn't eat he couldn't face Dean.


	3. Chapter 3 Superhereos

**Great I got a review but I was hoping for more than one, hopefully I will get some more Reviews. **

**Chapter 3---Super hereos**

The next morning Dean opened his eyes and was met by a pair of hazel ones staring back at him. He lifted his head, looking at his brother for a short while.

"I'm sorry." The boys said in unison, and they both laughed.

Dean sat-up, he was still tired he spent most of the night replaying the moment he stepped into the room and saw his brother frozen solid. He could still see Sam's blue lips; feel his ice cold skin, the tears running down his cheeks, but worst of all he saw the terrified look on Sam's face.

"What the hell were you thinking Sammy? You know better than to go somewhere unprepared." He shook his head, still reeling over the events of the past two days.

Sam's colour in his lips and skin had returned, and the shivering had stopped. Sam seemed to have recovered from whatever the hell had happened. His eyes where blood shot and tired, it looked like Dean wasn't the only one unable to sleep.

"I didn't think anything bad would happen." He looked down and started to fidget with his pillow sham

"I didn't think I would get attacked, especially since this guy is asking for our help." Sam wearily looked at his brother hoping he wouldn't still be mad at him

He was happy to see Dean nodding his head "But, he did attack you, that's why we do our homework. That's why we go together. Why the hell did he attack you Sam? Do you know why?"

"I don't know why….I'm not so sure if he did attack me." Dean snickered and opened his mouth to respond but Sam cut him off

"He kept begging me for help; if you need someone's help you don't hurt them." The resolve in his voice angered Dean; he was so damn certain the spirit hadn't attacked him.

"Is that the rule Sammy? Because there is one about not hurting the ones you love too." _Shit where the hell did that come from. Great job Dean your batting 0 for 2; now I'm never going to be drafted to the Yankees_.

"I mean, as a rule, you know…generally speaking." _Nice save, got anymore of those in your bag of tricks?_

"I know." Sam said flatly, trying his best to hide the hurt. Dean made a crack about Stanford, and Sam's choice.

"I, uh, didn't mean all that….giving you orders bullshit." Dean took a deep breath "I don't give you orders, we're a team." Dean smiled his most charming smile. "Right?"

"Yeah we are." Sam smiled back the most sincere smile he could muster, trying his best to forget what Dean said about Sam hurting him.

"How did you sleep? You look tired."

"Good, how did you sleep?" Sam wanted to take the attention off of him; he really didn't want to get into what he saw or what he dreamt about. The only thing he dreamt about.

Dean breathed-out a small laugh "You look like shit; you didn't get any sleep did you?" Sam shook his head "Neither did I."

Dean sat there for a short while, until he felt the familiar grumbling in his stomach.

"I'm going to get some breakfast" He stood-up "Why don't you try and get some sleep until I come back. Sounds good Spidey?" Dean smiled once again, and laughed inwardly that Sam thought of himself as Spider-man.

Sam lied in his bed reliving the worst moment of his life. He lied there as Jessica took her last breath, than burst-out in flames. The look in her eyes was the worst part they accused him of killing her, they where filled with fear and anger.

Sam woke to a loud crashing sound.

"Sorry." Dean said, one of the chairs lying on the ground.

"It's okay." _I really rather not relive that again._

Dean spread-out the food and the brothers sat down, Sam noticed that the food came from the pizza parlour. He shook his head, what was so great about this place? Dean seemed to be in love with the food, it wasn't any better than any other place.

"Dude, what's up with this pizza place?" Sam narrowed his eyes when he realized why Dean loved it so much. "She must be really cute."

Dean looked at him with a fake look of shock. "What? I just like the food." Sam gave him a look that said "I know you way too well"

"Alright, alright, she's really hot." Dean whistled and a smile came across his face as he remembered her curves.

"Man, she is this tall amazing look woman. Her name is Sophia, she's from Ecuador." Dean paused for a moment than continued.

"She speaks three languages, English, Spanish, and French. She showed me some pictures of her last trip there." Sam smiled; Dean got to know this girl, beyond what her sign was? What time? and Your place or mine?

Dean continued "She moved her with her family when she was 12 and she has the hottest Hispanic accent….its a little hard to hear, but some words like" Dean paused so he could take a few bites of his eggs and a sip of his coffee, he continued.

"Car, pizza, and when she says my name…super hot. I'm thinking of asking her out. Man, I'm going to bang her brains out."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"What? We've been here for 3 days and I have needs." Dean said defensively.

Dean noticed how quiet Sam was, he was eating which was good. Maybe Sam had another nightmare, maybe Sam was thinking of Jessica because of this case. He thought for a moment about what to say to get his little brother's mind away from Jess and the Greens.

"So, you think of yourself as Spider-man." Dean laughed "Yeah right."

"What? I'm so Spider-man. He has brown hair, I have brown hair. He's young, I'm young. He gets weird vibes, I get weird vibes." Sam counted on his fingers all the attributes that made him Spider-man.

"No, your more of a Xavier, you know the whole psychic stuff." Dean paused and thought for a moment than continued. "No, Jean Grey." Dean laughed.

"Jean Grey, she's a girl." Sam knew Dean was going to say Jean Grey when he mentioned Xavier.

"Think about it. She has a girly hairdo, you have a girly hairdo." Dean reached over and messed-up Sam's hair, Sam swatted his hand away.

"She's unsure about her abilities, your unsure about yours. She's a chick, you're a chick." Dean laughed.

"Funny." Sam shook his head; this conversation got his mind off of Jess. "Who do you think you are?"

Both boys thought for a moment.

Dean said "Wolverine."

Sam said "Gambit" Both boys answering at the same time.

They gave each other a strange look.

Dean said "Gambit?"

Sam said "Wolverine?" Both boys questioned each other at the same time.

"Why do you think your Wolverine?" Sam asked with a scrunched-up face.

"Wolverine is an independent man, he answered to one. He does what he wants, when he wants to. He goes from place to place, never really having a home, but he doesn't need one, he's happy on the road. He's not close to too many people, but he's loyal to the ones he is close to." Dean thought for a moment, yep that was him.

He continued "He's a damn good hunter; I'm a damn good hunter. Enough said." Sam nodded his head; that was Dean to a tee.

"Yeah but Wolverine was a wild, maybe not in the cartoon, but in the comic books he was a wild animal, that's not you." Sam said in his comforting voice, Dean noted the change of voice. It annoyed him that Sam was using that voice on him. Sam noticed the look on his brother's face; he didn't mean to patronize him.

"Gambit? Why do you think I'm that fruitcake?" He never really like Gambit, being compared to him annoyed him even more.

Sam picked-up the annoyance in Dean's voice, he thought to himself that he better make this good. "Well, he's very independent, never really had a home. Came from a family unlike any others, he kicks ass, you kick ass."

Sam took a sip of his coffee and continued. "He gets the girl, you get the girl." Both smiled.

"Yeah he got the girls except the one he wanted. If I was Gambit I would have fucked Rogue on the first night." Dean smiled; he could get any girl he wanted.

"Dean, she would have put you in a coma. Remember what she did to her first boyfriend Cody." Sam couldn't believe Dean; he would sleep with a log if it had a nice pair of breast, and a good ass.

Dean finished his breakfast, got-up and threw the paper plate and cup in the garbage. He turned to his brother and said "That's what condoms are for." Dean laughed.

"I'm going to the police station, maybe I can look into the Green case. Maybe there is something in the police files that will pop-up." Dean picked-up his car keys. Usually they would bring a smile on his face, the anticipation of sitting behind the wheel, listening to her engine purr. But this time they just reminded him of the past two days.

"Alright, I'll do some digging into Chris and Janis's history. Maybe they pissed someone off and they killed them." Sam said hopeful, he still believed Chris was innocent.

Dean walked into the small police station; it smelled of pine, he could hear a small creek as he walked. He looked around it was nice, no surprise everything was nice here, there seemed to be nothing here that wasn't nice. Everything was perfectly manicured; everything had a place, and was perfect. At first Dean like it, it was rare they got a case in a town that wasn't a dump, but the more Dean saw the more it bothered him. Everything couldn't be this perfect.

"Can I help you?" Came the raspy voice of a medium height male police officer from behind the pine desk.

"Yes, I am agent Dean McBain. I'm with the FBI missing persons." Dean said as he took out his fake ID and flashed it in front of the officer.

The officer examined it for a moment. "Okay, how can we be of service?" The man's voice became excited; he liked the idea of potentially working with the FBI. This place was dull and they could use some excitement here.

"We're looking into the disappearance of Chris and Janis Green. I was hoping to look into your files. Maybe there is something you guys missed."

When Dean said the names Chris and Janis Green he noticed a female cop in the corner of his eye lift her head. He watched her stand-up and go to an office to his left. The man inside was sitting at his desk. He was in his forties, had salt and pepper hair and was handsome for someone his age.

She spoke quickly and when she was done the man inside turned his head and looked directly at Dean. Their eyes met, the man quickly got-up and closed the door. The sign on the door said Sheriff.

"Uh, sure. It will take a bit to get the records, they are in the basement." The excitement was gone from the young man's voice. "You can take a seat. I will call you when I have them."

Dean sat down, the female officer came out and whispered something to the officer Dean was talking to. He lifted his head and looked at Dean, then nodded his head.

After fifteen minutes the officer called Dean over, he let him through the knee-high slinging door and showed him to a vacant desk. The young hunter sat-down taking a quick look at the female officer who was now starring at him.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks." Dean took the cup and drank it. The officer was watching him. "Uh, something wrong." Dean was starting to feel uncomfortable with all the stares he was getting.

"Oh, no. Just want to make sure you got everything. If you need anything I will be at the reception desk" The man smiled, Dean smiled back.

Dean sat there for at least an hour, there was a lot of information, it was pretty gruesome. What happened to that poor girl, he had seen some pretty horrific things but this took the cake. He cringed slightly when he saw the crime scene photos.

"Can I take that?" The very annoying male officer was back, he wanted to take Dean's coffee cup, he was a little too polite, and a little too willing to help the young "agent".

"What? Yeah, yeah go ahead." Dean's patience was growing thin, he had work to do and he didn't need an FBI wanna-be brown-nosing him.

The young officer took the cup and disappeared.

"Hey did you get anything?" Sam inquired as Dean came into the motel room.

"I'm picking the case next time." His patience wore thin an hour ago, now it was practically now existent.

"What happened? What did you find-out?" Sam said nervously, he had a bad feeling about what Dean had found.

"Assuming this Green guy is the killer, he brutalized that poor girl. Her body was mutilated….while she was still alive." Dean remembered the photos of the girl's dead body. He shook his head. "Who would do such a thing?" Dean felt horrified, disgusted, angry, and a small part of him wished Green was still alive so he could teach him a lesson.

"Poor girl" Sam whispered. His fingers hovered over top the laptop's keyboard.

"Man, I wouldn't blame anyone for wanting to give this Green guy a piece of his own medicine." Dean had a few idea of what he would do to this Green guy; he would make him suffer for what he did to that poor girl. Only 15, he could only imagine what her parents went through.

Sam broke the silence "Well, you won't believe the stuff I found. Chris and Janis grew-up in the Bronx, I remember Chris had a New York accent. They married in 2000, and moved here in 2001. They both had a record. Neither where saints." Sam was starting to question Chris's innocence now, and he felt guilty for making such a big deal of it.

"Janis use to be a prostitute. Chris was a career criminal, he had a long record. B&E, robbery, robbery with a weapon, assault, assault with a deadly weapon, numerous grand theft auto, theft, assaulting a police officer, resisting arrest, a few DUI's and…." Sam cleared his throat. He didn't want to tell Dean the last offence.

"Statutory rape." Sam said in a small voice.

"What? You're serious? He raped another girl. Son of a bitch" Dean slammed his fist on the table. Sam jumped.

"Not rape, statutory rape. The girl was underage, she gave consent but under the law she wasn't old enough to give consent." Sam was starting to doubt Chris's innocence, but part of him kept seeing the dead man's pleading eyes.

"I don't know Dean, I really don't know what to make of everything we are finding. Part of me says he did it, but the other half says that he couldn't have done it."

"Maybe the guy did it. Maybe all the shit he pulled off finally bit him in the ass."

Sam looked-up from the monitor it was obvious that he was thinking the same thing. He than quickly looked down, he wanted to say something to Dean, but he didn't want to upset his big brother.

Dean knew that look all too well. "What is Sammy? Please don't tell me there is more." Dean closed his eyes, he knew this was going to be bad. He clenched his fists.

"Uh, well….why don't we just go to the source." Sam looked at his brother "Back to the farm house." Sam leaned backwards; scrunching his face reading himself for the tongue lashing Dean was going to inflict on him.

Dean leaned forward, put his hand on the table and gave his brother a silent scorning.

"Um, or maybe not." Sam let out a nervous laugh, and Dean rose still starring at Sam. He walked past Sam and smacked him up side the head for even suggesting they go back.

Sam let-out a small scream and rubbed the back of his head; and Dean winced. _Oh right his head. Great that's 0 for 3; not even the Red Sox will have me now._

"Sorry, forgot." Dean cringed as if he had felt the pain as well. "Come on Sammy, we need to brainstorm. There must be something we are missing." Dean snapped his fingers as the light bulb switched on.

"Why don't we write down everything we know, try and remember everything that Chris said to you. Is there anything you might have missed, or forgotten, or thought it didn't matter." Dean sat down excitedly. There must be something Sam could remember that would help them. They needed as much help they could get.

"You know what, I will look at the book you drew in, and you think of anything that might help us and write it down." Dean got-up and got the notebook. Sam nodded, Dean was chock full of good ideas.

Dean sat at his bed examining every little detail of every page.

Sam started to think, tapping the pen in his hand against the table. He than started to doodle in the notebook, the last thing he wanted to do was think about a dead man talking to him with a poker through his neck. Sam cringed at the thought; he was starting to feel ill.

The young man stopped and looked at the doodles that he just made and realized he had drawn different kinds of cages. It made him feel trapped….trapped, Chris said he was trapped.

"Dean, I remember something." Sam's voice was excited and fearful at the same time. Dean was at his side quickly. "Trapped, he said he was trapped."

"What do you mean he's trapped?" Trapped, how the hell could this man be trapped? Dean rubbed his sore eyes, this wasn't going to be easy.

"I have no idea…maybe trapped in the house" Sam said confused, it was the only thing he could think of.

"That makes no sense, if he was trapped in the house then how did he possess your body? How did he attack you?"

Sam didn't answer, he was just as confused as Dean. Dean sat back down on the bed and continued to look over the drawings. He flipped a few pages over, looking intently, the look on Chris's face. He watched his whole family die, he watched the woman he loved die. That's when it hit Dean, the connection between Sam and Chris, and what really happened in the car.

Dean got-up with the book in his hand and walk towards Sam "Sam….I think I might know how he possessed you." Dean paused, how he was going to word this without hurting his brother.

"When we were in the car, where you thinking of Jessica?" Dean softened his voice.

Sam scrunched his face in confusion. "What does Jess have to do with anything?"

Dean placed the book on the table. "He watched the woman he loves die." _Just like you._

"The cassette." Sam's voice was now a whisper; ridden with pain. "It's her's. When Nirvana first came out she bought their tape. She eventually bought the CD, but she kept the tape….as a memento of the first band she liked."

Sam smiled at the memory. "She gave it to me before I left. She said that way she would be with me while I was gone." Sam was still smiling but their was a profound sadness there.

"But…you didn't seem sad, you where happy."

"I was. It's a happy memory."

Dean placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed. Sam looked-up at Dean, he was comforting Sam, which surprised Sam. Dean looked-down at Sam and realized he was comforting Sam, he moved his hand off and cleared his throat.

"Sam…was Jess pregnant?" Dean really didn't want to ask this question, but it would have been another connection.

"Wait what does this have to do with Chris possessing me?" Sam asked wanting to change the subject.

"Maybe for a second you freed him, maybe you sensed something." Dean went along realizing Sam really didn't want to go down that path.

"You're saying I did this to myself." Sam laughed. "That is pretty ridiculous. Besides my abilities are not that strong." Sam laughed at the absurdity.

"You don't know how powerful you are, you are just starting to get to know them." Dean said with determination in his voice.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I guess. Did you get anything from the drawings?"

Dean nodded his head and pointed at one of the figures in the drawing. "This guy, looks like he is interrogating Chris, maybe he was looking for something or maybe he wanted something from Chris. I don't know, what you think."

Sam studied the drawing. "Yeah, I heard someone laughing; he said he wanted Chris to give him something." Sam rubbed his forehead in exhaustion.

Dean nodded, things where starting to get interesting.

"Alright, let's go over what we know." Sam said as he wrote something in the notebook, and ripped it out. He got-up and pinned it to the wall.

"Family gets murdered." He walked back to the table and wrote something else in the notebook and pinned it to the wall. "Girl's murder, Chris is accused."

Dean grabbed the book and wrote in it as well "Possibility of others wanting Chris dead, or Janis."

The boys looked at the wall for a moment, both shaking their heads. They pretty much had nothing.

"We have nothing." Sam said in frustration.

"Maybe we should talk to the locals"

"Yeah we should."

"Where did this guy work?"

"AJ contractors, construction."

"That's where we start." Dean said as he reached for his car keys, and they both left.


	4. Chapter 4 A Friendly Chat With The Local

**So here is chapter 4 and things are starting to heat-up and the boys will finally get some answers. The next two chapters will have a double shocker so hold on to your seats because things are going to go to hell in a hand basket real quick.**

**Warning Sexual content in this chapter.**

**Chapter 4----A Friendly Chat With The Locals**

"Well that was a complete waste of time." Dean complained, sitting on the driver's side, absently rubbing his stiff neck. After talking to a few of Chris's co- workers, they pretty much had the same answers. Chris was a huge prick who got the job of foreman by kissing the boss's ass.

"I don't know did it feel like they where all hiding something, as if they wanted to say something but couldn't."

"Or didn't want to; all of these guys had personal beefs with Chris, maybe they decided to teach him a little lesson in manners." Dean stretched his neck, it was a little stiff this morning but grew to an unbearable ache.

Sam started to tap his fingers on the door of the passenger seat. "None of them looked familiar." Sam answered as if reading Dean's mind.

"Oh…okay, I didn't ask." Dean was now making circular motions with his head, despite the pain.

"What's wrong with your neck?" Sam gave Dean a strange look, now noticing Dean's neck exercises.

"It's stiff, so you remember the face of the attacker." _Why didn't you say so before?_

"No, but it feels as if I saw him, I would know who he is." Sam went silent; the drumming of his fingers the only sound in the car, Sam wished he had seen the face of the attacker, a piece of clothing, a tattoo, something, anything that would shine a light into who the murderer was.

Dean stopped moving his neck and was becoming quickly annoyed by the tapping. He tapped Sam's arm and gave him an annoyed look, Sam stopped.

"What else did the file say?" The only place left to look; over than the farmhouse which he knew Dean would never allow him to go to. Allow? Why the hell did Dean think he could tell Sam what to do, and where to go? He knew what he was doing, and he, unlike Dean trusted the psychic Sammy hotline.

"What? About the murder" Dean scrunched his face in disgust when he remembered the photos.

"The girl, Robin Sinclair was a geek just like you, little Miss. Perfect was into gymnastics, volleyball, year book club and ran for class president and won." Dean laughed mischievously. "Remember when you ran for class pres."

"Oh god." He really wasn't in the mood to go down memory lane, especially an embarrassing lane.

Dean laughed even more when he heard Sam's reaction. "You where so cute in your little preppy outfit." Dean squeezed Sam's cheek Sam slapped his annoying big brother's hand away hoping none of the construction workers had seen it.

"Oh and that speech, that was just priceless. Just so you know Sammy, I totally agree with the idea of having more Playboy in Junior High." Dean burst out in laugher.

"You're such an ass, you switch my speech." Sam said still very pissed at the prank Dean pulled on him, in front of the whole school.

Still laughing Dean managed to say. "Look on the bright side Sammy, you won."

"I won but it didn't count, and I got detention for the rest of the school year, the tongue lashing I got from dad." Sam shook his head; he couldn't believe his brother pulled such a stunt on him.

"You know I will eventually get back at you." Sam said already thinking of ways to get his big brother back.

Dean wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling a little. "Oh happy memories, happy memories; so anyways Robin was seeing someone, an older man, she told no one but her best friend, her diary."

"Did you read the diary?" Trying hard to hide his anger and embarrassment, partly because he didn't want Dean to know it still bothered him so much.

"Are you still mad? Don't worry there is a strip joint on Queen Street, I'll buy you a lap dance." Dean smiled, _brothers enjoying a strip show together, oh even better Sammy at a strip joint._

"We're not going to a strip joint, could you focus." Dean was really grating Sam's nerves now.

"Relax man, just having some fun. Yeah I read the diary; pretty much says what I just told you. She was seeing an older man, she found him mature, interesting, 'and oh so sexy'." Dean said the last three words in a mockingly sexual tone.

"She had a tattoo; her parents didn't know she had it. It had some initials on it, they were…..gauged out" Sam and Dean cringed. "It said in the file something about one of the initials had the letter "C" on it."

Sam was quiet, he started the tapping once again. He started to think, she was seeing an older man, who initials where tattooed on her, maybe she told someone else about him, maybe she showed-off her tattoo to her friends.

"Hey Dean, did it say anything about friends, maybe she told one of them about this older man." It was the only thing Sam could think of, he wished he had more but it was good enough for now.

"Well, the files said something about friends, but they all said they didn't know who the guy was." Dean thought it was just another dead ends; this job was riddled with them.

"We should go talk to them anyways, what where their names?" New hope in his voice, he had convinced himself that this wouldn't be another dead end.

Dean signed heavily, and reached into the back seat for the file. He sifted through the pages, "Monica James, Claire Thomas, and Michelle Sanchez." He closed the file and tossed it into the back, shaking his head.

Sam noticed this "You think this is a waste of time? You trust me don't you?"

"Sammy, I trust you, and I trust your visions, but I just don't think this guy is innocent. What if he wants you to believe in him, so you can realise him, maybe use you to get revenge on the people who killed him?" That was the worse case scenario, and Dean didn't want to even think it was true, but they had to consider all possibilities.

"We don't know that is what he wants…" Sam said defensively

"We don't know it isn't…." Dean snapped back.

"That's why we do this. We need to figure things out, than we decide." Sam gave Dean his puppy-dog eyes, hoping they would work.

"So now you want to do your research." Dean spat back "Where was that yesterday?"

"I told you why I went there." Sam was yelling now, he couldn't believe Dean was using this against him; he couldn't believe Dean didn't trust him.

"Yeah Sam you told me you needed answers, but why did you have to go back to the house? Why would he attack you? You have tunnel vision, and we can never afford to have tunnel vision on a job, no matter what." Dean yelled; his fists where balled-up and white around the steering wheel. He glared at his brother and clenched his jaw.

"I don't have tunnel vision, I know what I sense, it's not the same as having instinct, it's not the same as a having a feeling, it's different. I know what I saw and I know what I am sensing. You don't want to work this job anymore than fine, I can do it myself." Sam spat back, he had enough of Dean questioning everything, he wanted Dean to trust him he had been right so many times. He just couldn't figure out why he didn't believe in him now.

"I never said I want….." Sam got out of the car, he had enough of this argument, there was no convincing Dean and he would go and question the girls himself. "Sam, where are you going?"

Dean got out of the car, slamming the door much harder than he ever would. "Sam, Sam, get back here." Dean ran after Sam and grabbed his arm turning him around, Sam jerked his arm back. "I trust you, okay I trust you, but I…" Dean lowered his voice so none of the workers would hear what he was going to say. "I don't trust this spirit."

Sam's face softened, his brother's trust in him was important, it meant more to him than either boy would ever know. Dean was all Sam had, if Dean didn't believe in him than who would?

"I know it seems like he is guilty, but I know he isn't, something just tells me he isn't. Usually I would be right there with you, but it's just what I am sensing, my weird vibes are giving me weird vibes about this one." Sam smiled; Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Fine, fine we will go and see the girl's friends." Dean said begrudgingly and they headed back to the car.

Dean stood in the elevator, sneaking in a few looks at the beautiful blonde who stood beside him. She noticed the very handsome man looking at her and smiled, Dean smiled back.

"My name is Candy." She said with a very sexual voice.

"I'm Dean, Candy I bet your real sweet." Dean couldn't help flirting with this gorgeous woman.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened. Candy pulled something out of her purse as she stepped-out, and handed it to Dean. "This is my number, call me. Maybe you can visit my candy shop." She smiled as the doors closed.

"She gave you her number, all you said was your name." Sam was shocked, not that he wanted to get with a woman who would giver her number to the first good looking man who gave her attention. But even that was a first for Dean.

"Can you blame her? Look at me." Dean smiled as he pocketed the number. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's cockiness'. A puzzled look grew on Dean's face. "What did she mean by candy shop?"

Sam laughed. "Uh Well, um" Sam laughed again, now very embarrassed "She means she wants you to go down on her." Sam face went red; he really didn't want to have this conversation with his brother.

Dean laughed "Why do you think she means that? Not that I mind your interpretation, but is it possible you think with your downstairs brain." Dean smiled. "Maybe you think with something other than your big ol' geek brain." Dean smiled even more he was enjoying embarrassing Sam.

"No, it's a song." Sam gave his older brother a 'you're unbelievable' look.

"Really, huh, you have this song, a dirty song. I'm surprised Sammy, I thought you only listened to doped-up rock star wannabe who sing about little friends in their head."

"Its rap, I don't listen to rap, but I have heard it before. You would like it, its pretty dirt." Sam prayed for the doors to open, if they didn't soon he would force them open and jump out.

Why did this girl have to live on the top floor? Dean opened his mouth to further humiliate his little brother when they heard the familiar ding. Sam let out a sigh of relief, saved by the bell.

They stepped out of the elevator and walked to PH4; Dean knocked and smiled his most charming smile at the beautiful woman in front of him.

Michelle Sanchez a 20 year old woman who was 5'5, with long black hair and red highlights; she had brown smoky eyes, an oval face, and thin lips. She was pleased when saw the very tall and handsome young man in front of her. She smiled and played with her hair a little.

Sam was speechless when he saw the young Pilipino woman in front of him.

Dean spoke first "I'm agent Dean McBain, and this is my partner agent Joseph Hanover, we're from the FBI." Pulling out his fake FBI id as he spoke, nudging Sam when he noticed he still hadn't shown his id. Sam quickly pulled out his id and smiled.

"What is this about?" She asked as she pulled her low cut top inward, trying her best to cover-up her tattoo. Dean noticed the gesture, and the tattoo. From what he could see, it appeared to be the same as Robin's, although he could only see one of the letters; it wasn't the letter 'C', but the 'K'.

"We are working a missing person case, and we would like to ask you a few questions." Dean responded, hoping she didn't see him taking a peek at her tattoo.

"Yes, of course, anything for two handsome FBI agents. Please come in." She stepped aside and let them in.

She lived in a very spacious and lavish condo, with three large windows that lead to a balcony with a great view. Directly in front of them was the living room, a large white leather couch, with matching love seat and chair, a solid wood hand carved coffee table, wood flooring, and a silk Indian rug; a fireplace with an original abstract painting hug above it. The kitchen was to the left of them and was hidden from their view. Spiral staircases lead to the upstairs where another woman of oriental decent was cleaning-up.

Michelle quickly called to the woman saying something in Tagalog; she came down the stairs and went directly to the kitchen, busying herself with tea and cookies.

"Please, sit down and tell me how I can help you." She sat down on the love seat facing the brothers, crossing her legs and settling her hands on top of her legs. She was very soft spoken, and pleasant. Sam found her to be very attractive, and tried his best to stay focused, but most of all he tried to hid the fact he was attracted to this woman.

"We are looking into the disappearance of the Green family. You knew the victim Robin Sinclair, and we where wondering if she told you anything about the man she was seeing." Sam said in a very flat, but hopeful voice, she had to know something that could help them. They had visited the other two friends and got nothing.

Michelle's face went pale, her eyes filled with tears, and she seemed very scared, once again she tugged her shirt to cover the tattoo, Sam noticed the gesture. She quickly got-up and went to the kitchen, returning back into the room with the other woman speaking again in Tagalog, rushing her out of the door.

Both boys watched the whole scene and gave each other a confused look. Once she was out, Michelle returned back to the brothers.

She sat down beside Sam, leaning in she whispered "He didn't do it." Tears falling down her face and breathing heavily, she took a tissue from the coffee table, and gently wiped her eyes and nose.

"She was seeing him long before this Chris Green guy came to town. Don't ask me how I know, I just do." More tears came down her face she wiped her eyes again, her hand shaking.

Both boys where shocked, this was the first real lead they had gotten. Sam put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, take a deep breath." She did as she was told and Sam continued. "Why are so scared? Who was she seeing?"

His voice was so quiet, and sweet, comforting and caring. He made her feel safe, as if he had put a warm safe blanket on top of her where no one would ever hurt her. But she knew better, pulling his arm away she quickly got up pulling Sam up at the same time.

"You have to leave now, get-out." Pushing Sam towards the door, he could feel her shaking, she started to hyperventilate.

"Calm down, we can protect you." Dean got-up, and grabbed her arms, trying his best to calm her.

"No!" She screamed back, moving away from him. "You can't protect me, get-out." She pushed both boys out. "We can help you just tell us what you know." Dean's patience was wearing thin, and he didn't appreciate being shoved out the door like that.

"No one can protect me, he will know, just go away." The fear and pain in her eyes told Dean she wasn't going to give them any information anytime soon.

She closed the door and locked all three locks on her door. Putting her face in her hands, she slid down the door and cried some more, no one could protect her. She prayed to god that no one would find out she had been talking to the feds about Robin, if anyone found out she would be dead.

A thin man in his fifties and a grey suit sat behind a desk talking on the phone. "Yes, I got the fax, don't worry he isn't FBI…..don't worry I will take care of it……well maybe if you had taken care of it I wouldn't have to."

The man paused to listen to the other person on the phone, while looking through the newly faxed files, he laughed. "Don't worry this guy won't be hard to get rid of, but next time you have a job to do, do it right….the last thing we need are the real feds coming here and causing trouble. Do you understand me…..I have no trouble replacing you." He hung-up the phone and laughed again at the file.


	5. Chapter 5 Arresting Developments

**Okay here is chapter 5 and the first shocker, hope you all enjoy it. Please R&R**

**Chapter 5--Arresting Developments**

Sam rubbed his temples eyes closed, he could feel a headache coming, which was good and bad news. It was good because it wasn't a vision headache, bad because well it was still a headache. He wished he wasn't in the car, the hard leather only thing to comfort the back of his head which decides to join the fun, and throb with the rest of his head.

He could hear Dean take in a deep breath to speak, hoping he wouldn't yell.

"What the hell was that?" Dean yelled staring out of the window. Sam flinched and opened his eyes a little too quickly, he winced at the pain.

"Why are you yelling?" Sam whispered, not having any strength to speak any louder.

Dean knew the signs of an oncoming headache and tensed-up, this wasn't the best time for a vision, yet again when is ever a good time for one.

"Sammy you okay?" Dean said with the slightest amount of concern, he cleared his throat trying his best not to show his true emotions.

"Yeah I'm fine, it's not a vision." Sam closed his eyes and started to rub his forehead. The tension and pain in his head was reaching an unbearable point, he felt like screaming for the pain to stop, but what would that accomplish except for more pain.

"Are you sure?" He swallowed, hoping and praying it wasn't a vision.

"Yeah, I didn't get much sleep last night, and I am feeling a little tense, it doesn't help that my cut is throbbing. Do we have any Tylenol?" Sam's attempt to be the brave little soldier wasn't lost on Dean, but he wished he wouldn't be so tough, if he needed time out he needed to tell Dean.

Dean got out of the car and opened the trunk and saw the first aid kit they always left in the car. He found the Tylenol, he peeked his head out and saw Michelle frantically rush to her car. She was on her cell; the older hunter wondered who she was speaking to. Dean walked to her, but she had already got into the car and drove away.

Dean turned around and walked back to the Impala and handed the pill bottle to Sam through the window.

"That Michelle girl knows more than she is say." The elder said stating the obvious "We should follow her, see where she is going, or to who." Dean said as Sam downed the two pills, and walked back to his side of the car.

"What do you mean follow her…..Dean?"

Slamming the door shut he started the car and quickly caught-up with Michelle. They followed her just outside of the town to a cabin hidden within the thick forest, never letting her know they where following her. Frantically she exited the car and entered the cabin.

They boys hid the Impala in a clearing not to far, hoping no one would see it. They moved crunched down, quickly, soundless through the woods, gracefully manoeuvring around the litter of sticks and stones holding their breaths feeling the surge of adrenaline pump through their bodies.

Finally making it to the cabin, keeping their heads low under a window, they listened intently as Michelle frantically spoke to someone, a man.

"Yes, I know about them, they are not FBI. What did you tell them?" The man's voice was deep and husky, he was calm.

"What do you mean they are not FBI, they had id." Michelle's face just turned pale, her voice was shaky, her hands started to tremble.

"I mean they are not FBI, they are just a bunch of low life criminals. What did you tell them Michelle? If you told them anything…" The man was yelling as he slammed his fist down on the table he was sitting at.

"Son of a bitch" Dean cursed under his breath. "How the hell do they know?" Sam shrugged his shoulders, and peeked into the window.

"I didn't….I didn't say anything…please believe me." She was now crying and her trembling hands became a full body shake.

"Good, keep it that way, stupid whore. You have my money?" He wasn't screaming, but his voice was ominous, he had no problem making good on his threats, and she knew that.

She reached into her purse and pulled-out a wad of cash, he snatch it from her and proceeded to count the money. She looked down as he counted the money, hoping he wouldn't notice the missing money.

He got-up "Where is the rest of it, you dumb bitch I sent you ten today, there should be at least nine grand here, there is only eight fifty. Are you stealing from me?" The man was now livid; he grabbed the petit woman and smacked her several times.

"Where's my money?" He roared.

She reached into her purse and gave him the rest of the money.

Dean and Sam reached for their respective guns, Dean motioning for Sam to take the rear as he moved to the front of the cabin. As they where readying themselves to storm the cabin Michelle ran out, a bruise on her face, and ran into her car driving away as fast as she could.

Shortly afterwards several men causally walked-out, a man who was about the same height as Dean was on his cell barking orders, he turned around so one of his henchmen could light his cigar.

He barked more orders and hung-up the cell, removing the cigar he said to his men "Stupid whores, when will these bitches learn they do not steal from me."

"Do you want us to remind her who she works for." The smaller of the men said rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

They all got into the Porschette and drove away, neither boy hearing the answer to the question.

Once they where gone, Dean motioned for Sam to move to the back of the cabin. The back had a small window making it difficult to see the whole room Sam peered inside moving his head to get a full view of the room. Inside where two men sitting at another table playing cards laughing, and smoking cigars.

Sam crouched down under the window and whispered to Dean "There are two men and it doesn't look like they are going anywhere anytime soon."

"We will just have to wait."

"What? No, we will get caught we can come back another time." The last thing the younger one wanted to do was to sit crouched down under a window just waiting to be caught.

"Sam this is our opportunity…" Dean unintentionally raised his voice.

"Shhhhh! Dean I know, but we are just sitting ducks here." Sam crinkled his face and peer his eyes into the window. Making sure no one heard them.

"Dude I have no problem taking any of these guys." whispering once again.

"Yeah I know I have no doubt you can. It's just that we don't know how many there are, or how well armed. It's not the same as fighting something supernatural." Sam said giving his brother and exasperated look.

"Supernatural, or not we have to take care of this Sam, you saw what that bastard did to that girl. For all we know that guy is the killer, or ordered the murders." Dean matched Sam's annoyed stare with a look that told him there was no more arguing, they where going in.

Sam nodded his head in agreement, and they waited for the two men to leave the room.

After two hours of watching the two men play cards, smoke cigars, go for way too many crock itches, and two belching contests that even grosses out Dean they finally left and the boys where able to brake into the cabin.

The room was barren save a desk and table with a couple of chairs, there was a computer and a locked file cabinet under the desk. Sam tried it as Dean kept watch, it was locked. Sam reached for his lock pick kit and was pleasantly surprised when it unlocked rather easily.

Inside where several manila files with various names, none of which looked familiar, after a while Sam realized they where business names. He opened one of the files and found balance sheets, accounting sheets, and inventory sheets, he cringed slightly he hated accounting.

"Hey, someone is coming." Dean said urgently.

Sam quickly put the file back into the cabinet and locked it once again exiting just before the more stout of the two men came walking in, they both took a deep breath once outside.

**Back in the Impala**

"Did you find anything?" Dean said excitedly, he could feel the adrenaline pumping and the hairs on his arms and back of his neck stand-up, as they always did whenever they broke into somewhere, or on a hunt.

"All I found where business names, accounting forms, and inventory sheets." Sam said exasperated, what was the connection?

"Accounting forms? What does that have to do with anything?" Now disappointed, what the hell does accounting sheets have to do with the Green's murders?

"I don't know, maybe they are good fellas." Sam turned his head to face his older brother, who was nodding in agreement.

"Makes sense, do you think Green had 'connections'" Now the pieces of the puzzle where coming together, both making the connection between the Green murders and these guys in the cabin. Unfortunately, that still didn't answer the question of who killed Robin and why Green was framed for it.

Their thoughts where rudely interrupted by Dean's grumbling stomach. Sam laughed.

"Uh…I'm feeling kind of hungry….pizza?" Dean smiles, his agenda obvious.

Sam cringed "Pizza again, you just want to go there so you can gawk at the waitress."

"How do you know she won't be gawking at me? Besides it's a two for one deal, pizza and T&A, what else can a guy ask for?" Dean once again flashed his most charismatic smile turned the car on and drove away."

Sam smiles at his older brother, Dean really amazed him; often he wondered where he got his lines, and how he always got the girl. Sam opened his mouth to ask his big brother some girl advices but closed it shut quickly, he was much too shy and the possibility of humiliation was much too great.

"Something you want to say Sammy?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. _Damn he saw that._ Sam sat there for a short while trying to come-up with an excuse as his older brother gave him an expecting look.

"How do you do it?" Sam chocked-out.

"Do what?" now confused.

"Get all the girls? I mean other the fact that you're so damn good looking. I mean….I am a good looking guy…I doesn't always work for me. I always get all tongue tied and I don't have a clue." Sam looked at his brother wearily, wondering what he was thinking and how bad his humiliation would be. When the younger one looked at his big brother, he had the goofiest smile.

"I was wondering when you would come to me with your girl problems." His goofy grin got even wider. "I am a professional if getting the girl was a major at some snobby college I would have my PHD." Dean said proudly.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's cockiness. "Dean…."

"Sammy, I can get any girl I want, you just said so, and it's not a crime to be proud of it." Dean looked over at his brother who opened his mouth to say something but cut him off before he could. "Okay tell me how did you ask Jess out, what did you do to impress her."

Sam sat thinking for a minute than smiled "Well, I….I took a class. She was an art history major, so I took one of her classes." He was becoming nervous and uncomfortable, he cleared his throat.

Dean raised his eyebrows a little surprised. "Smooth Sammy, taking the same class the girl you want to hook-up with, I must admit I'm impressed."

"It didn't work."

"Why not?" Dean's eyebrows where knitted together in confusion.

"She didn't buy it I spent most of the class staring at her." Sam's face was getting red with embarrassment at the last part, Dean laughed.

"So how did you get her to go out with you?" now very curious.

"I just talked to her…..I have no idea why she went out with me. That's my problem…..I like a girl, but I don't know what to say to her. She asked me out."

Dean laughed "You gotta love a girl who goes after what she wants. Just be yourself I'm sure there is some girl out there who wants a geek-boy for a boyfriend….somewhere out there."

Sam laughed "Thanks, I feel so much better."

"You could go out today, I'll hook you up, you can even have the motel room." Dean was relieved, Sam had been in a funk since Jessica's death and it seemed that he was getting some closure.

"On second thought, no thanks." Sam now regretted ever saying anything to Dean.

"Are you sure, I bet Sophia has a sister or friend you can have." Maybe he had jumped to conclusions maybe he needed more time.

Dean drove Sam back to Michelle's apartment after he said he wanted to see if she was okay. Dean went to the pizza parlour. When he got to her door he saw it was open slightly. He opened the door to see the condo was trashed and Michelle was on face down on the floor in a pool of blood.

He ran to her and turned her over to see if she was still alive, he noticed something in her hand and he picked it up. At closer inspection he realized it was a bloody knife.

Two cops burst into the condo with their guns pointing at Sam "Put the knife down and put your hands-up." yelled the cop on the right.

"What I…." Sam didn't realize he still had the knife in his hand and mistakenly moved his hand when he spoke.

Sam heard a very loud nose right before the bullet ripped through his body, and he crumpled to the ground.


	6. Chapter 6 Sacrificial Son

**Here is chapter 6 and the second of shockers I promised, things will start to really heat-up after this LOL!!! Hope you all enjoy.**

**Chapter 6---Sacrificial Son**

The metal twisted, turning, ripping through skin, muscle, ligaments, veins, burrowing a painful pathway through Sam Winchester's body. The impact made him jerk back slightly, then fall heavily with a very loud thud to the ground. He felt a small pain on his left cheek, a warm sticky substance slowly pooling around his body and making its way to his face. He wasn't breathing, where had he been hit? He felt the pain in his upper torso, so the good news was his other organs where safe, bad news that only left his lungs and heart.

Then his brain kicked in, he wasn't breathing because he was holding his breath, the pain, the shock, he had been shot_. Oh my god I've been shot. Okay take it easy, take a deep breath_, he filled his lungs with air, it didn't hurt. Y_es it doesn't hurt._

One of the cops used his foot to kick the knife that was still in Sam's hand away from him. "What the hell have you done?" He said disgusted by the lifeless form in front of him, he felt sick, than angry.

"You shot me you bastard." Sam didn't hear what the cop had said, he still didn't know if Michelle was alive or not. The only thing that registered in his brain was the pain.

"You're lucky I didn't shoot you in the head, you sick sadistic son of bitch." The cop took a deep breath trying to regain his composure. "What is your name?" The cop screamed, ready to bust a cap into Sam if he even thought of moving.

"Sam, Sam Winchester….I…I didn't do this….I came here to see Michelle, I just wanted to talk to her." The seriousness of the situation was now sinking into Sam, they thought he did this; they thought he was capable of such a thing.

"Is she okay?" Sam said meekly, praying to god she was okay and would tell everyone he didn't hurt her.

The cop on the right put his gun into his holster and bent over Michelle, checking her non-existent life signs. He raised his head to his partner and shook his head, she was dead.

"Sam Winchester you're under arrest for the murder of Michelle Sanchez, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney, if you can't afford one, one will be provided. Do you understand what I just said to you?" The cop on the left spat with hatred and disgust for the young man in front of him, Sam nodded his head. He quickly cuffed the young man despite his cries of pain.

Dean Winchester stood in the pizza parlour in a close embrace with one of the most beautiful woman he had the pleasure to kiss. Her lips where so soft and full, her tongue was inside his mouth which was just driving him nuts. He figured this was his chance, he moved his right hand down her waist cautiously, he like Sophia and to his own surprise didn't want to rush this or offend her. She still hadn't said anything, so he moved his hand down to her butt.

She pushed him away and gave him a surprised look "Dean what are you doing?"

"Honey, it's called exploring, you know I'm Christopher Columbus, and you're America." He smiled hoping she would buy his bull shit.

"Huh, Christopher Columbus didn't discover America, the Vikings did." She crossed her arms around her chest.

"Seriously the Vikings, huh I did know that."

Sophia laughed "You didn't pay attention to history did you."

He smiled hoping he was in her good graces once again and he could put his arms around her thin waist and kiss her soft lips. "Sammy did most of my homework from grade ten on."

"Dean….I've been in so many relationships, I am no longer interested with just sex, I want more. If you want to get into my pants, you have to get into her first." She pointed to her chest indicating her heart.

Dean knew what that meant, he wanted to get to know her more; there was just something about her smile, her kindness, her thoughtfulness, her patience. She always thought of him, she even cared about Sam despite the fact she never met him before.

But he saw something else, something buried deep inside of her eyes, no one saw except for Dean, because he saw it in the mirror everyday. It was pain, a pain that went deep, leaving deep jagged raw edges, but at the same time hidden behind a façade of smiles and jokes. He felt a connection, maybe he could open-up to her and when he was finished she would still be there, because she understood his pain.

What she said about not wanting just a one night stand hit home, he no longer wanted that, he wanted a woman who would love him, and he wanted to love her back without fear or regret.

But the fear and pain was too deep, and too painful he couldn't let her see the other side of him, the side he even hid from his little brother.

"I am trying to get in there." He said as he reached out for a cheap feel, instead he was met by a quick slap to the face.

"I open up to you, and this is how you act." She yelled at him.

Before he could respond Dean's cell rang, he quickly answers it "Hello."

"Mr. Winchester, this is Officer St. James, we spoke earlier when you where impersonating an FBI agent." The cop said flatly.

"Oh, I think you might have the wrong number." She must have slapped him pretty hard if that was the best he could come-up with.

"So you don't have a brother named Sam Winchester."

"Sam is my brother, he is okay?" Dean could feel the panic rising inside of him, he didn't care if they knew he was impersonating a fed or not.

"Sam was shot while resisting arrest he was armed with a knife." Once again his voice was flat, unemotional.

"My brother was shot. Is he okay?" Dean could feel the tears burning his eyes.

"Sir, you should go to the hospital."

That is all Dean could hear, as he raced to the door. Sophia wanted to go with him, but he left before she could ask him.

"Sam was shot while resisting arrest." That is what he heard as he ran the red light and nearly rammed into the semi.

"Dean, he is your responsibility, take care of Sammy."

That is what he heard as he sat in the Impala in the hospital parking lot. His hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, his eyes riddled with fear and pain. The pain from his mother's death, from his father's disappointing glare as he cradled his six year old son in his arms, the pain when Sam told him he was leaving and if their dad told him to stay gone he would stay gone.

He didn't want to leave, it was safe here, warm, comfortable, he could put the music on and forget anything bad had ever happened, because it didn't, it couldn't, how could Sam have been shot? How could he have left his brother to be shot?

He imagined his little brother a scared little six year old holding a knife as the evil cops shot him, where? In the leg, arm, stomach, chest, spin, in the head….he could feel his heart rate increasing, his chest heaving, it hurt so much to breath, for his heart to continue to beat. How could they shoot his little brother, how could they do this to him?

He saw his father in a black suit standing over a casket adorned with various flowers, openly weeping. Pastor Jim standing at the top of the casket with the good book opened reciting the prayer for Sam to have a better life beyond this one. He sprinkled holy water on top of Sam's casket, his father weeping became a cry so sad, so broken, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. His father stood there a broken man in front of his son's new resting place. There was nothing Dean could do, he broke his father's heart, and he let his little brother down.

Dean was now crying, he wrapped his hands over his face, he didn't want to go into the hospital, he was just a scared little boy, and he just couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't call his father and leave a message on his god forsaken voicemail. "Hey dad how's it going? Sam got shot, he's dead, and I wasn't with him because I was hoping to get lucky with this really hot Hispanic chick."

Sam could feel only two things, the dull ache in his left shoulder, and his mind in a fuzzy fog. He was breathing so that was good, he could hear someone writing something on a piece of paper, and shuffling of feet. He opened his eyes and saw a nurse in her mid forties writing something in a book.

He stared at her for a moment or two; at least he thought it was a moment or two, his head was still a little foggy and it was difficult to know how long he was staring at her. Then his senses where starting to wake-up, the dull pain was there, a slight throbbing on his cheek, the IV in his right hand and the cuffs that made sure he wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

"What happened?" Sam chocked-out, coughing afterwards at the dryness, his body jerked and the pain in his shoulders became a throbbing ache now.

His voice startled her and she dropped his chart and quickly picked it up. She turned towards a table that housed a pitcher of water and poured the liquid into a small cup and placed a straw into it. She swallowed hard and turned around to the young man in front of her. Her hand was shaking and she walked slowly trying her best not to look at him.

After drinking he asked again what had happened to him.

"I think you should speak to one of the officers outside." Her hand shaking more now that she was so close to him, she spilled some of it on his bare arm. It was cold, and he jerked at the cold liquid on his warm skin, tensing his tender skin again. Sam was startled by her reaction why was she shacking?

"Are you afraid of me?" Sam was surprised, why was she afraid of him.

She put the cup back on the table grabbed a cloth from the washroom and wiped his arm. She never looked or spoke to him, then left. It answered his question.

Sam laid there for a short while staring at his cuffed wrist, it slowly came back to him what had happened. He found Michelle dead, the cops thought he did it, and they shot him.

"Oh shit." Was all Sam could say.

A thin man in a grey suit walked into Sam's room. He spoke calmly, but made it more than clear what kind of trouble Sam was in.

"Mr. Winchester, we need to talk about what happened in Michelle Sanchez's condo." He walked towards Sam and places three manila folders on his bed.

Dean paced back and forth, it had been twenty four hours and he still hadn't seen his brother. Sam had been shot in the shoulder, which was great, no organs where hurt, his brain was still intact. Whether or not it still worked, that was debatable, the idiot got himself shot.

The older brother started to bit his nails, spotting a nurse he ran to her quickly to ask the same question for the millionth time. She spotted him and tried to get away, she knew what he was going to ask, and the answer would be the same.

"When can I see my brother?" Dean spoke quickly so she couldn't escape like she did the last time he asked her.

"Sir, I have told you this before, only hospital personal and officers are allowed to see your brother." The exasperation in her voice and her face pissed Dean off like nobody's business.

"I know, but I need to see him, to make sure he is okay." Dean said as he gritted his teeth.

"He is fine, it was just in his shoulder, no organs where hurt, and no major muscle or tissue damage. Sir he will be fine." She snapped back, the stress of the job getting to her, and to top it all off she had to mend the shoulder of a killer, her day was getting to her.

Dean went to open his mouth, he no longer had to be polite to the useless parade of nurses and doctors who told him nothing more 'than he is fine.' But he was cut off when he saw two officers, one of which was the very annoying cop who took his coffee, the other he hadn't seen before, and the sheriff. With them was his brother, his left arm was in a sling, and he had a huge bruise on his left cheek. His right arm was handcuffed to his waist which had a chain around him; he wore a light blue long sleeved shirt, and dark blue trousers, a prisoner's uniform.

Dean looked deep into Sam's eyes he saw something he had never seen before, it was despair, sadness, pain, guilt, and apologetic. The elder had seen all those things in Sam's eyes before, but never all at once. He wondered what his little brother was thinking.

He moved towards Sam "Sammy you okay? Sammy I'll get the best lawyer, we'll fight it." Sam broke the eye lock he could no longer look at his brother.

Dean could feel the sheriff pull him back as the other two officers' ushered Sam away.

"Sammy, I will see you at your bail hearing. Don't worry everything will be fine." He said desperately, it had to be fine, it just had to be.

**Sam's arraignment**

Dean raced through the dark corridor looking for courtroom number seven he finally found it at the end. He quickly opened the door spotting his brother in a plastic box wearing a hole into the ground with eyes, with the other criminals. The other criminals Sam wasn't a criminal, well okay so he was a criminal but not that kind of criminal.

The elder brother made his way to his little brother, ignoring the stares and the gasps of pain as he stepped on some toes trying to get to him.

He shoved a man over "Come on move." When the man didn't move he gave him a 'move or die' look, the man moved over with wide eyes. Dean sat down.

"Sam everything will be okay, don't worry, just plea innocent and I will fix everything okay." At first Dean wasn't certain if Sam had heard him, until he said he would 'fix everything' and Sam turned his head to the side away from Dean.

"Sam I know you can hear me, just do as I say okay." Dean said reassuringly, for the sake of Sam, and himself. He wasn't sure who he was trying to reassure more Sam or himself.

Dean was starting to get the attention of the judge and he addressed Dean. "Excuse me young man, but you are not allowed to talk to the offenders while they are in the box."

"I was just trying to reassure my brother, supporting him, he's my little brother and I'm just trying to take care of him." Dean rambled on, not even realizing what he had said. Sam heard him, and it broke his heart.

The judges face softened "That is very admirable, but you are still not allowed to address him, you will have to wait until after his bail hearing, if you don't I will have you removed. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

The elder sat there in the same spot for two hours, staring at his brother who refused to look at him, shaking his leg up and down, and biting his nails, when Sam's name was finally called, he let-out a sigh of relief.

Dean followed Sam to the other side of the courtroom where the accused stood to state their plea, once again he shoved, stepped, and threatened the other people.

Sam and Dean listened intently as the charges of murder in the second degree, rape, breaking and entering, theft, and mutilation of a dead body, resisting arrest, and credit card fraud where read.

The judge asked Sam for his plea and Sam finally turned around to face his big brother, the look on his face was so sad, so apologetic, why was Sam apologizing?

"Mr. Winchester please turn around and enter your plea for the charge of murder."

Sam didn't move he kept staring at his big brother, his protector, his best friend, he was so sorry.

"Mr. Winchester, please turn around or I will find you in contempt." the judge now getting very irritated by the lack of response from Sam.

"Sam, turn around and tell them you are innocent." That shook Sam out of his trance and he turned around to face the judge.

With tears in his eyes Sam entered his plea "Guilty your honour."

The guilty plea was like a stab in the heart "What?" Dean chocked-out.

"On the charge of rape how do you plead?"

"Guilty." Sam's voice was flat and unemotional.

"What?" Dean voice was louder, another stab.

"On the charge of breaking and entering how do you plea?"

"Guilty." again unemotional.

"What no you didn't do this." Dean was frantic, the pain from the constant attack of stab wounds to his heart more than he could take. Dean got-up quickly, ran over to the other side and faced his brother before addressing him.

"You didn't do this, why are you pleading guilty?" Dean's twenty-two year old façade finally broke, the pain and agony that he has been caring around on his shoulders finally breaking him, and he was the little four year old who stood in the doorway as the mean man ripped through his mother.

"Tell the judge and everyone here you are a good person, that you…" Dean didn't have the strength to hide how scared he was, his emotions poured out of.

"Mr. Winchester, sit down, your brother is more than capable of entering his plea of guilt. He obviously knows what he is doing." The judge said very irate.

"Tell them Sam. Tell them you didn't do this. I will fix this." He pleaded to his little brother, now he was the twenty-two year old man pleading with his brother not to leave.

"Mr. Winchester, sit down or I will find you in contempt of court." The judge bellowed.

Dean didn't hear him "Please Sammy…."

Dean was cut-off by his brother who finally decided to talk "Stop it, I did it. I am so sorry, but I did it." Sam looked his big brother in the eye, silently confirming the elder's worst fear.

"I didn't mean it, I just wanted to be with another girl. I didn't realize what I had done. I guess Jess's death it changed me more than I realized. Please sit down big brother." Another stab to the heart, Dean refused to believe Sam would hurt a girl intentionally or not. Sam called him big brother, he never called him that.

When Dean didn't do as Sam ask him to do he continued "I am going to do this, you can either sit down or you can stay standing there and have the judge put you into lock-up. Whatever you decide I am going to do this, I want you to stay, I need you to stay." A single tear came down Sam's face, he could see the small pieces of his brother scattered all over the floor. He broke his brother's heart once again, he didn't want to but he had to.

Dean was speechless; he stared at the man in front of him, at first he thought maybe he was abducted by aliens and replaced with a robot. He looked deep into Sam's eyes, trying to find the one hint that he was a robot but all he found was a tear running down Sam's face.

He turned around went through the swinging door and sat down. Sam pleaded guilty to the rest of the charges, the judge ordered Sam to be transported to Riker's, and Sam never looked back at his brother.

Dean sat there numb.

The thin man in the grey suit smiled at Sam as he was ushered out of the courtroom and nodded to him, Sam nodded back.

John Winchester sat in the vacant dinner sipping his coffee, his hands where shacking. Yet another family ripped apart. He looked-up at the TV while the news reporter talked about a twenty-two year old man who confessed to raping and murder a young woman. He took another sip and spat it out when he heard his son's name as the man who pled guilty.

There is one more chapter than you guys will be caught-up with the one on supernautral.tv so the chapters will not be updated as quickly as they where before.


	7. Chapter 7 Riker's Prison

**Warning: This chap has course language and discussion about sex. I am a little nervous about it b/c it does talk about sex and I hope no one is uncomfortable.**

**Chapter 7--Riker's Prison**

"Mr. Winchester" The voice of Mike Hanson who was standing a little bit to the left of Dean, he sat there not responding.

"Mr. Winchester, I need to talk to you about your brother's case." his voice a little more urgent.

"What?" That got his attention.

"We have to discuss what happens next." Dean looked the man over he was a bit shorter than Dean, with blond hair a thin goatee, and blue eyes. He looked like a surfer dude in his father's blue suit.

"I am Mike Hanson, Sam's lawyer." He extended his hand to Dean, who got-up and took his hand.

"Of course, but first you can tell me what fuck did my brother just do." He snapped back, yelling bit louder than he should have, getting the attention of the judge again.

"I'm done for the day your honour, and we are leaving."

They left together and once they where outside Mike continued.

"First, don't do that that will ruin everything for Sam, got me." Dean didn't like his tone of voice but he was right and he reluctantly nodded his head.

"Let's walk and talk, I have a lot to do." They headed towards the elevator.

"I have no idea what that was, Sam already confessed, both video and written, and insisted on not having a trial."

"I don't understand why would he do that?" The need for answers where overwhelming him and the man beside him was the only one who seemed to have them.

"Again, I don't know. I advised him that going to trial was his best option. The only evidence the prosecution has is the confession, and I could have had that thrown out. Your brother had just been shot, had surgery, and made the confession without any legal council. It wouldn't even have gone past the preliminary hearing."

"This still doesn't make any sense, my brother is…..he is a good man, he would never hurt a girl. If a fly could plea for its life, Sam would spare it." Dean was certain of this fact he held onto it for dear life, it was the only thing that kept him going.

Mike took a deep breath and looked at Dean

"Sometimes things don't make sense, and people do things we think they would never do, and for no reason at all. From what I heard Sam did this, whether or not you accept it. You will have to deal with it, because Sam is going to prison." He said seeming to be annoyed by Dean.

In turn Dean grabbed Mike and threw him against the wall his face hovering a few inches away from Mike's.

"Don't tell me to accept it, because I will never accept it." Dean kept his voice quiet but threatening, his eyes where wide with rage and he was breathing heavily.

Mike was happy that looks couldn't kill otherwise he would be would be dead.

"Accept it, I will never accept my brother brutally raped and murdered a girl because she wouldn't sleep with him. And don't you ever ask me to." Dean spat at out, finally able to realise his anger.

"Fine don't believe it, I don't give a shit if you believe it or not. You can spend the rest of your life in denial, I hope you chock on it." Mike kept his voice calm and steady despite the fact he was petrified of the man in front of him.

"Reality he's going to prison. That little show you put on for the whole courtroom was just great, the prosecution will eat it up and the judge will see that Sam comes from an angry violent family and he is more than capable of such an act."

Mike looked deep into Dean's green eyes, the hatred, the anger, the rage that lay within them convince him his client was guilty, and his brother most likely would be his next client.

When Dean still hadn't moved he continued. "Now back off or I will quit on the basis of abuse inflicted by my client's psychotic brother." Dean still didn't move. "I said back the fuck off."

Mike pushed Dean off of him, he than adjusted his tie and jacket back into their previous manner.

"Don't think I won't make good on my threat to quite, I don't have to take your shit, and the fact that I am legal aid doesn't mean you can treat me anyway you like. Do you understand me?" He picked-up his leather briefcase that lay on the floor a few feet from where he was standing. Dean reluctantly nodded his head.

"Now Sam has a sentencing hearing coming-up he will need everyone we can get to vouch for him. Do you have any family or friends that can testify?"

"Testify? Testify for what?" Dean said confused he never got past the bail hearing from his criminal adventures.

Mike rolled his eyes this one was going to be loads of fun. "Testify to Sam's character, the judge will want to hear from both sides before sentencing him." They continued to walk towards the elevator.

"What do you think he will get? Ten years." Hoping that would be the extent of his jail time, ten years sounded like an eternity but it was the best case scenario.

The young attorney scoffed at the question at first thinking Dean was joking in return Dean gave him another death stare.

"You got to be kidding me, ten years? He will be lucky if he gets life with parole. Sam is facing serious charges one of which is resisting arrest, he had a knife and he threatened two police officers. That doesn't get you ten years." He shook his head.

"Just be happy New York State doesn't have the death penalty anymore. Is there anyone who can testify to Sam's character?"

Dean thought for a moment, there where few people they where close to. "Um well, there is a pastor who we grew-up with, and I guess some of his Stanford friends." Even he had to admit that was a pretty pathetic list.

Mike sighed in frustration "That's it? What about family Mother, father, other siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, teachers?"

Dean never thought they would ever need anyone but each other and their father, now he wished they had been closer to their family.

He looked at Mike "Our mother is dead, we have no other siblings, we never had any contact with any other family, and I don't know where our dad is." _Oh shit, Sammy is in real trouble._

They finally reached the elevator "Alright, well contact anyone you can find to testify, creditable people, who don't have a record, or hang-out at some roadhouse having drinks with their wife who just happen to be their sister and their mother."

Dean cringed at the statement then clenched his fists ready to show this ass whole how violent his family really was.

"And try and contact your father, if he can say something good about your brother that is great, every little bit helps." The elevator doors opened-up and Mike entered.

"Man they always give me the….." His sentence was cut-off by the doors closing. Once they where closed he doubled over in pain, his back was on fire. "Son of a bitch."

Once inside the Impala Dean called his dad

"Hey dad, uh I don't know how to tell you this….Sam was arrested. It's not a mister meaner type thing, this is big…..he's in Riker's prison right now. Dad….he needs you, he needs you to come and testify for him for his sentencing hearing….he needs you dad. You have to come if you don't…..I will never talk to again. I am serious dad, don't call me, don't send anymore damn coordinates nothing, I will quite hunting and get a job and take care of Sammy all by myself, but don't you ever call me again."

He paused he had tears in his eyes this was too painful to say, but knowing his father it had to be said. "I will never see you again and this….this will be our last conversation…so dad either I will see you at Sam's hearing…..or this is goodbye."

With a tear running down his face Dean closed the phone and wiped his face.

Sam sat in the bus with the other prisoners, some seemed nervous, a few where quietly praying that prison wasn't as bad as they heard it was. Most where staking the others out, picking out which ones would be the easiest to manipulate which ones would be best as an ally, and who would be an enemy.

Sam sat quiet, he watched everyone, some seemed like they where trouble, but looked like he could handle himself, others looked like real trouble and he would have to keep his wits.

One caught Sam's eye, he sat on the other side of the bus looking Sam over. He licked his lips in a seductive way, Sam cringed. Unfortunately, the stories of jail and sex where true, Sam cringed again and kept his eyes to the front, hoping and praying he wouldn't have to do anything he didn't want to do while he was in the joint. At this point it finally sunk in the seriousness of his situation.

The sound of the metal cuffs around the prisoners feet clanged together as the newest addiction to Riker's arrived. The place was enormous he had no idea how big it was, looking at it, it felt a bit intimating. The other inmates where out enjoying the beautiful spring day, lifting weights, playing basketball, hanging-out.

Some of them quickly walked-up to the fence that separated them and the fresh meat. Sam watched them he needed to take a mental note of as many of the prisoners as he could.

One inmate noticed Sam he was about five feet eight, bald with a goatee. He had tattoos that went from both his hands up to both sides of his neck. He was muscular and despite his small stature he looked formidable.

He climbed-up the fence a little and started to shout at Sam "Hey baby, you're real cute I'm getting a hard one just thinking of you. I'm going to make you scream." When he said the last part he began to dry hump the fence. "I'm going to make you scream like the little bitch you are." He and his buddies started to laugh.

A guard walked-up to him "Hey Robert get down, I said get down." The guard grabbed him and forced him off of the fence. Robert and his buddies started to laugh and high-five each other.

Sam kept his eyes straight, he was scared but kept his emotions in check this was the last place to loose it. _Oh God what have I gotten myself into._

Once inside changed and debriefed about the rules Sam was shown to his cell, the cuffs where finally taken off and when he turned around he saw his new cell mate, it was Robert from before. He was sitting on the top bunch with a huge smile on his face.

"Hey cupcake, looks like Christmas came early this year. I am a little surprised Santa hasn't visited me since I 'accidentally' set him on fire." He smiled revealing crooked and yellow teeth.

Sam wanted to scream to the guards that they made a mistake, but instead he did what Dean would do, be a smartass. "Yeah Santa hasn't visited me since I 'accidentally' put arsenic in his milk." He smiled revealing his pearly whites.

Robert laughed "Hey you got a sense of humour that will come in real handy when the nice fellows here send you the welcome basket. You know they are so nice here, and sweat, we're going to have a tuber wear party tomorrow."

"I bet, I thought I was going to get a single cell, no roomy." He moved towards his bed.

"You ordered a single, damn management those bastards. You know I ordered a Swedish swimsuit model three weeks ago and they still haven't gotten back to me. You should complain." Robert's tone of voice confused Sam, it seemed as if he was serious and he wondered if this guy was crazy.

Robert slipped off the bed and stood in front of Sam amazed at the size of him, Sam smiled. He looked Sam up and down who was an impressive size and Robert felt a bit intimated, but the number one rule of prison never show your scared, so he put on his most cocky face.

"Well I did say a Swedish model but I guess you will have to do." Than he reached for Sam, but he caught his hand

"Let's get something straight do not touch me, especially below the waist." Now Sam had the upper hand he could see Robert was a bit intimated by him and drew from it.

"Let go of my hand or me and mi boys will show you what the joint is really like. You don't want me as an enemy do you?" They locked eyes each silently making an agreement, Sam let go.

"There are a few rules we have to go over. **One,** the top bunch is mine**, two**, don't touch my stuff. **Three**, when me and mi boys are hanging I don't want to hear anything from you. You don't want to piss me off. **Four**, keep your mouth shut. Simple rules, you follow them and we will get along beautifully."

Sam nodded his head, usually he wouldn't agree but this was a different place and survival was the most important thing, just long enough to get out.

"Fine but I have a few rules too. **One**, don't touch me on any place on my body especially below the waist." Sam knew that he already stated that rule but he wanted to make sure Robert got the point and wouldn't try anything later.

"**Two**, don't touch my stuff." He paused and thought about it for a while "I think that's it."

"Cool." Robert turned around and climbed back up to his bed and Sam painfully sat down on his. "What's your name? "

"Sam"

"Robert, but peeps call me vibora, so what'cha in for?"

"Murder…..and rape." Sam hated saying it out loud it confirmed his guilt for a crime he didn't commit.

Robert jumped down again, he had a huge smile on his face and he was a little surprised. "Really, you? Huh, I am a little surprised you look like theft, B&E, or assault, murder and rape that's for the big boys." He leaned against the bed waiting eagerly for details.

Sam smiled at him "I am overachiever I go for the big times."

Robert laughed "So who was the lucky lady?"

"Does it matter I really don't want to talk about it." Sam hated himself right now, she did matter, but he didn't want to boast about murdering a girl especially since he did commit it. She mattered, he liked her and maybe he wasn't going to ask her out, but still she deserved better than this.

"Alright." Robert turned around to go back up but than changed his mind. "One more thing, watch out for Jason Morgan, you don't want to mess with this guy, trust me. If yo catch his eye….just give him what he wants."

"What do you mean?" Sam knew the answer to the question but thought it would be best to ask anyways.

Robert scoffed this guy was going to be eaten alive in here. "You don't know what I mean? If he wants a lil' piece of yo' ass you give him it. Trust me, the guy is animal….he'll take it if has to."

The way he said it made Sam nervous, it seemed like he was talking from experience. But there was no way Sam was going to be batting for the other team, and if he had to he would take on whoever challenged him.

"I can take care of myself." Sam said definitely his father taught him well and he could handle himself no matter the situation.

Robert nodded his head "It's yo funeral."

Dean sat on his bed staring at his shaking hands as he tried to put on his watch it was time to go see Sam. Why was he shaking? He knew the answer, he's scared, scared that he would see his little brother beaten, battered, and bruised-up and force to….no he wouldn't let himself go down that road. Their dad had taught them so many survival skills they could survive in any condition, with whomever maybe out there trying to hurt them. He shook his head nothing bad would happen to Sam he would be just fine, Dean would figure out who was behind this and nail his ass to the wall with a nail gun. Dean smiled at the thought and returned his attention his watch, his hands where no longer shaking as much.

He was woken from his thought by a knock on the door he got-up and saw it was Sophia. "Hey I can't talk right now I have to go see Sam."

He wasn't going to wait for an answer so he started to close the door, but she stopped him with her hand.

"I know, but you can't go see him like that." She said as she looked him over.

"What? Are you the fashion police? I have to go see Sammy he needs me." He once again went to shut the door, and she stopped him again.

"Have you seen yourself in the mirror today? You look like shit." She forced herself into the motel room. Knowing she wasn't going anywhere any time soon Dean closed the door.

"What the hell do you mean? Besides I'm not going over there for a beauty contest."

"I am sure the boys at Riker's would love such a pretty boy like yourself it would make their day, but don't worry I didn't come here to give you make-up tips."

"Good, because I'm naturally beautiful I don't need make-up." Both smiled, it felt good to let go a little.

"But seriously Dean when was the last time you ate? Why don't you go and take a shower and by the time you get out breakfast will be ready for you to eat, than go see Sam."

Dean reluctantly nodded his head a shower and food sounded great.

**Ten minutes later**.

Dean came out of the bathroom with fresher clothes, and a shaved face he looked at the food on the table and breathed in the eggs and pancakes, and home fries and there was coffee. He hadn't had much to eat since was Sam arrested.

He sat on one of the chairs and started to eat Sophia put her hands on his shoulders and began to give him a very relaxing message.

It was nice, she was really soothing some of his tense muscles. "What are you doing?"

It felt so good to have his muscles rubbed like that, but it felt even better having someone there for him, worried about him. But as much as it felt good, it felt strange and out of place he wasn't use to someone taking care of him, to worry about him, in a way it didn't feel right.

"You're so tense I can feel the knots in your right shoulder." She said as she gracefully moved her hands back and force on his right shoulder.

"Thank-you for everything." She knew he meant it.

He hadn't realized how much he needed it until she said something, if Sam had seen him like this he would have flipped. The elder spent so much time worry about his little brother and berating himself for not taking care of him, he forgot to take care of himself.

"No problem, just worry about your brother, and I will worry about you." She said with a pang of guilt.

Sam Winchester stood in the prisoner's side of the visitor's room starring at his big brother. He knew he would have to explain things to his big brother, he just wished he had more time to come up with something. He had actually spent most of his time in pain, stoking out his fellow inmates, and keeping his eyes out for this Jason Morgan guy.

Dean tapped on the glass then pointed to Sam's receiver, his already to his ear. It was now or never, Sam had to sit down and he had to talk to Dean, and he had to convince his brother that he was guilty or else suffers the consequences.

He walked towards the booth, picked-up the receiver and placed it on the table, he slid the chair back a little, holding his shoulder tightly with closed eyes and clenched teeth he sat down.

Once the receiver was to his ear Dean spoke trying his best not to loose his temper. "Are you okay? Are you in any pain?"

"Yeah I'm okay, it hurts like hell, but I'm okay." Alright so that wasn't too bad.

"Good, what the hell is wrong with you?" Dean said clenching his jaw, with eyes burning with anger.

"Nothing is wrong with me I did it just like I said in court. You'll have to accept it." Sam hoped Dean wouldn't see past his act and believe him.

"Accept it, man it one more person tells me to accept it…"

"Dean I did it and you…."

"No Sam, don't, don't you dare tell me to accept it, or to give up, or to move on, don't." Sam could see the desperation in his brother's eyes and he felt guilty for putting him through this.

"Do whatever you want, but I am in here, most likely I am going to be in here for the rest of my life. So what are you going to do for the rest of your life, you're going to come here every week act as if everything is hunky dory. I am going to die in here…" Sam came to this conclusion after his encounter with Robert.

"What no, I'm going to get you out you just have to hang on." Sam starred at his big brother in amazement he really believed what he was saying.

"You're delusion you know that. I've been here for what two days and I already know this, I am going to die here, so get with reality you're not going to swoop in and rescue me…"

"That's my job I am suppose to protect you." Dean yelled back not realizing that he had made another slip. He got the attention of one of guards who told him to control his temper or else he would have to leave.

Once Dean promised that he would keep his cool his attention was back on Sam. Sam wasn't impressed, he wished Dean would just give-up, but he had to admit that was pretty stupid Dean would never give-up on him. It was his most admirable and most annoying quality.

Sam shook his head "Guess what Dean you can't protect me, I'm in here and you're out there. So unless you plan on holding some people hostage and getting caught you can't protect me."

"Well it worked in Prison Break…." Dean was willing to do any thing and he was thinking it might work.

Sam laughed and got-up he had enough, Dean tapped on the glass again Sam turned around and sat back down.

"There is no point in talking about it anymore Dean, you just don't get it do you?" Now it was Sam's turn to loose his cool, and he got a sideway look from one of the guards.

"Sam I just wanted to tell you….keep you're eyes open and use your instincts, you'll need it. Oh and uh…don't drop the soap in the shower." Dean did a mock shiver.

Sam smiled "Oops I already dropped the soap, so that's what I felt."

Dean jaw dropped he didn't know if Sam was just joking or telling the truth until Sam started to laugh. "Very funny, I'll see you later, take care of yourself."

"I will bye." They both hung-up and left.


	8. Chapter 8 A Visit With The Reaper

**Alright now you guys are up to date with supernatural.tv and the updates will come at the same time. There are some more shockers and some answers in this chapter so enjoy. BTW...thanx to everyone who has review it is really appreciated.**

**Chapter 8--A Visit With The Reaper**

John walked into the motel room holding his duffel bag and looked around he turned to Dean. "Wow this nice, how much?"

"About fifty a night." He said than sat on his bed, still holding his bag John shot his son a look that told Dean to get his ass off his father's bed.

"Come on I always get this bed." He could see his father wasn't going to let him have it he got-up and sat on Sam's bed. It felt weird sleeping on the farthest bed, in Sam's bed.

John threw his bag on the bed, and sat down. He glanced at the calendar that sat on the night stand than looked-up at Dean. They took a deep breath knowing what tomorrow is "Are you going to see him?" Dean asked as he lied down.

"Yeah he has a lot of explaining to do. Are you going to get him anything?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"A nice punch in the face, but they have that stupid glass shit so I was going to get him Playboy." They both laughed.

"Remember his last birthday we spent together, it was his eighteenth and he was so pissed off, he insisted on going out with his friends." John shook his head "Remember what happened." John could feel the anger building-up.

"Dad why are you doing this?" Dean asked cautiously, he could see his father was getting angry.

John bit his lower lip "That boy, he knows which buttons to push, he gets' drunk and what happens?" Dean could see his father was now biting even harder on his lip as his temper was boiling over.

"Dad, it's not the same, he was just a kid, the first time you remember your first time. Hell I remember how much trouble I got into my first time." Dean smiled "He's a smart guy, but everyone does stupid things." Dean reassured, he was doing a lot of that lately he knew it was his job but he wondered when it wouldn't be his job any more and everyone can deal with their own shit without running to him for every little problem.

"This isn't a small mistake, this isn't just going to blow-over Dean, he's in jail for the rest of his life. What the hell is wrong with him? Why the hell would he just confess?" John snapped back, he was shaking now the idea of his son in jail for the rest of his life terrified him, how long would he last in there?

Dean starred at his father he had no answer he pondered over these questions himself.

John continued "How long will he last in there?" His voice was shaky it was obvious he had been pondering this question for a long time, and he knew the answer.

Dean stood-up abruptly uneasy with the question he began to pace, the fear and panic coursing through his veins like poison ready to attack his heart threatening once again to destroy his stoic wall. No he couldn't allow it to happen he had enough of his emotions taking over and this time he wouldn't allow them to win.

He turned to his father with determination burning fiercely in his eyes and said "You're kidding me, he's a Winchester, and no one and I mean no one brings down a Winchester." John realized too late what he had said, as usual he allowed his anger to cloud his judgement and he felt guilty.

"He'll be just fine in there, he has to be." Dean said the last part under his breath reassuring himself as he often did.

"What do you give him dad? A week, two at most, nice to know you have confidence in your own son." Dean paused for a moment "Do you have any confidence in him? In your training?" Dean stopped he wanted an answer.

John stood-up walked-up to the younger man and locked eyes with him "I am not going to defend myself. And don't you ever speak to me like that ever again." John spat out he would have smacked his boy for his disrespect but he bit it back he would never hit his boys he knew what it was like to have a father who showed his love with his fists.

Dean stood his ground and matched his father's glare but didn't hold it for long. John was right, this was the stupidest thing Sam had ever done, and Dean was wondering how long he would last in prison, it wasn't their father's fault. He didn't pressure Sam into confessing, John was just scared he finally let his son know how he feels and this is how he repays him.

"What the hell where you doing here? What where you hunting?" John said he didn't want to talk about Sam he was ready to get down to business.

Dean took a deep breath "We weren't on a hunt, it was more like an investigation, I guess that's what you could call it."

"What?" John barked.

"Well, we were on our way to Rochester, there where some deaths, driving down the interstate and um….Sam got possessed." Dean paused to gauge his father's reaction.

"Possessed? By a demon? Did you exorcise it?" John could feel his knees getting weak but this was Drill Sergeant John Winchester and when he gave orders you don't dare test the waters of disobedience, so his knees stayed strong.

"No dad, not a demon by a ghost, he stopped the car, I almost cracked my head open on the dashboard, and he was out. Then out of no where he wakes up and drives us to this farm, my baby almost landed in the ditch." He took a deep breath.

"When we got to the farm he goes out again, when he woke he didn't remember anything. He than had a…." Dean stopped catching himself, should he tell his father that Sam was psychic? It wasn't his secret to tell, he thought for a moment trying to decide what to do "He…he…." Dean was stuck and John was loosing his patience.

"He what Dean?" John barked.

"He saw something, he said he saw a dead man inside, but there was nothing inside." He stopped hoping this would satisfy his father and he wouldn't press him for more.

John nodded "A spirit? Why did he possess Sammy?" His scrunched his face, wondering why everything supernatural went after his son, he must have some kind of homing device stuck inside of his brain and anything and everything that was supernatural homed on to it.

"Yeah dad a spirit, and looks like him and his family where killed. We did some research into the couple that owned the place." He walked towards the wall where they hung everything they had on the Greens.

"Chris and Janis Green moved here about five years ago, six months after moving the guy gets charged with murder and rape." He looked behind him his father stared intently at the wall.

"Dean you have nothing."

"Dad, can I finish?" He said without realizing it, he really has been spending too much time with Sam.

John turned his gaze to his son "You really have been spending too much time with Sammy."

"You have no idea." Dean confessed.

"You're not going to start playing Barry White, are you?" John said with a crooked grin.

"Sammy listens to Barry White?" Dean said shocked.

John laughed "He's a closet Barry White fan whenever you went out on a date or he was really pissed off at me and wanted to bug me he would play Barry White."

Dean laughed John pointed to the wall "Anyways" and returned his eyes to the wall.

"Oh right, so everything we could find pointed to this Green guy, I almost believed he was the killer. But Sam insisted the guy was innocent. I got the police report, found her friends, one of them was Michelle." John turned his head quickly to his son, Dean nodded.

"She told us Green didn't kill Robin, the girl, but she was too afraid to tell us. We followed her to a cabin and she gave some guy money. Makes sense now, he was her pimp and he beat her up. We went inside when everyone left, Sam said he found some business names and accounting sheets, we had to leave some guys came in." He took a deep breath he getting closer to what happened to Sam.

"Than Sam said he wanted to check on Michelle, I don't know what happened, I got a call, you know the rest." He sat on John's bed that took a lot out of him.

"So the girl knew something, and Green and Sam both get a murder rap. Huh." John thought for a moment "Who's her pimp?"

"Kyle McLaughlin, he owns the local strip joint, but he owns the local theatre, there's a big festival here brings in big money, a few restaurants, the guy is big and respected. I did research on him, nothing that would help us out." He looked down at his hands and started to rub them together, things just got worse and worse for Sam how was he going to get him out of this mess?

"Than we do more, we have to find a connection, anything that will get your brother out." John turned back to the wall and they went silent.

The next day Sam walked into the visitor room and sat in front of his father "Hey dad"

"Hey, what happened to your face?" John said as he studied his son's left eye.

"Nothing, just some hot shot got a lucky punch." He said as he gazed downwards he couldn't face his father.

"Lucky shot, you never allow a lucky shot in this place." _Stay calm John this isn't the time or place to get into it with Sammy._

"Don't worry about me, the guy looks ten times worse than I do, I broke his arm." Sam said unemotionally, he wasn't going to allow himself to feel guilt or regret here, it was survival and he broke that guys arm to survive, never feel guilt.

John was surprised by his son's coldness since when does he not care who he hurts.

"Alright." He paused what would he say next? He had to be careful the last thing he wanted was to have an argument with Sam.

"I came here to say Happy Birthday." Sam raised his head and looked into his father's eyes, he remember his birthday since when does his father remember his birthday.

"You came here to say Happy Birthday to me?" Sam said softly.

"Yeah…and I have some things for you." He reached out for a small box and a brown pouch, opened the shoot placed it inside and closed it, Sam did the same. The pouch was salt, of course his father thought of everything. He smiled when he opened the box, it was a small cupcake.

John turned around and reached for the magazine that was sticking out of his jacket pocket than turned back a little shocked to see Sam had finished the cupcake.

"You where suppose to wait to eat that, not just down it."

Sam smiled, finished what was in his mouth than said "I'm not sharing with anyone, what else do you got?"

"This is from Dean." Than he stuffed the magazine through the small shoot, John had said a few curse words Sam laughed at his father's attempts. He rolled his eyes when he saw what his big brother got him, and John laughed.

"I should have known." They both laughed.

"I didn't just come here for your birthday I wanted to talk about what you just did." Sam let-out a frustrated sigh.

"Dad…"

"What did they say to you Sam? Did they threaten Dean? Did they threaten Joshua? Did they? Dean did research and he came-up with the name Kyle McLaughlin, if he threatened Joshua I swear to god…"

Sam was shocked "How did you….never mind your John Winchester of course you knew."

"I use to watch over you when you where in Stanford, on my way to hunts or on my way back from one, you think I wouldn't have noticed you knocked a girl-up?"

"Than you know I gave him up?" Sam said still very shocked.

"Yeah I do, we can talk about it later." Now wasn't the time to get into things.

"No one threatened him, no one threatened Dean, I confessed because I did it." Sam lowered his head, again he couldn't face his father if he did than he would let it all out and he couldn't do it he loved his father way too much to tell him the truth.

John scrapped a hand over his face "Than what Sam? Why did you confess?" He could see the anguish in Sam's posture he wished his son would just confide in him.

"Dad I did it." Sam said in a small voice

He shook his head "Look at me son." He waited for his son to comply and as usual he didn't "Damn it look at me and tell me you killed Michelle." Sam raised his eyes and levelled them with his father's revealing the truth "That's what I thought we'll get you out Sammy, than I am going to kill this Kyle McLaughlin."

Before Sam could protest John got up and left.

Sam walked into the rec room, Robert and two other men where sitting watching TV. Donny an eighteen year old lifer for killing three people for drug money, and a thirty five year old Italian man named Marco. Marco was half-way through his ten year sentence for armed robbery and assault. Sam spotted the men and sat down with them. He looked at the three men all of whom made their share of mistakes and bad judgements, and most likely Sam would never be friends with any of them outside of the joint, but now he was starting to see the human side of prison, the prisoners. Not the cold hard killers, they where another story, but these guys made their mistakes and they owned up to it. They had family and had plans of living a normal life after they served their time.

Donny was on drugs, he couldn't remember killing those people and he showed real remorse for what he had done, but the judge wanted to make an example and he got life. Marco never showed remorse he was part of the old school Italian man who never showed his emotions, much like his father and his brother. Robert was in for assault, but the way he told it the guy had it coming, talking about how he was banging his girl and his little girl was really the other guys. Robert lost it, he stopped himself confiding in Sam that he almost killed the guy but he would never cross that line.

Sam's take on Robert was that his bark was a lot worse than his bit.

"Hey cupcake." Robert said smiling, the other two laughed.

"You got to stop calling me cupcake."

"Sorry but you remind of a cupcake." Sam scrunched his face "Like one of those white ones with chocolate frosting, MMMMM!!!"

Sam cringed "Your sick you know that." Than he took the magazine out of his pocket threw it into Robert's stomach.

"Uff! Careful I'm fragile." Robert said sarcastically "What's this?"

"It's spankables." Sam said with a smile

The three men ogled the pictures "Thanx where did you get it?"

"My brother's idea of a birthday present." He said a bit annoyed.

"Hey Robert, who's this?" A middle aged man said after he blocked the TV.

The four men stood-up "Who him?" He pointed to Sam "He's my bitch." Sam shot him a look, what the hell was Robert doing?

The man smiled rubbing his hands together looking Sam up and down. "You don't mind sharing do you?" He moved closer to Sam Robert moved between them. Now he knew what Robert was doing he was protecting him.

"Sorry Morgan, I don't share, I'm a greedy little bastard." He smiled staring the man down.

Morgan moved closer too close to Robert, he could feel the man's hot breath, he swallowed the fear becoming overwhelming, Morgan leaned in closer as he said "Remember the last time you refused me something." Than he pulled away smiling.

Robert became overwhelmed with memories he knew what Morgan was implying he moved a side without a word. Morgan moved closer to Sam rubbing his hand together and smiling.

"Hey Mike come in." Dean said as he moved aside.

"Hey Dean did you need something?"

"Yeah we need you to answer some questions."

"I said back the fuck off old man." Sam said with his deep husky voice.

"No one refuses me you give me what I want, just ask Robert he knows." The two men locked eyes for a moment.

Five other men walked behind Morgan making it clear who they sided with.

"Kyle has connections, well at least he is rumoured to have connections."

"You mean with the mob." John asked

"Yeah but they are just rumours nothing but rumours, in my opinion people like to say he is because he has a lot of money and business connections and people talk."

Sam fell to the ground blood oozing out of his nose he could feel the pain ripping through his shoulder, Morgan and his buddies where laughing. Sam glanced over at the guards they where laughing as well, they where not going to help him.

When Morgan was close enough he kicked him in the shines, quickly getting up he decked him with his right. This is when Sam's friends decided they where no longer going to be bystanders.

"You where Green's lawyer do you think it was the same killer, that Green and Sam where framed?" Dean asked bluntly.

Mike thought for a moment than said "Well, both girls had injuries to the face and abdomen and both had been raped. I don't know if that is a connection, I would have to go over my notes. It's been a while since Robin's death."

Sam could feel the blood coming down his face his shoulder was killing him but he ignored it as he laid in another punch into the man in front of him.

He stared at the man too long he didn't see Morgan run towards him with a shank. "Sam, watch out." Donny yelled.

"Do you think Green was in the mob, that maybe he was doing Kyle's dirty work and got in too deep?" Dean was starting to see the piece of the puzzle coming together everything was starting to make sense.

"I don't know I really didn't know the guy, I was just his lawyer, if he was connected he didn't tell me."

Sam saw Donny go down he ran towards him but was stopped by a surging pain his body convulsed with shock. It was an eternity before he went down his body still trembling.

"If Kyle was involved with Green and he's in the mob, than this is deep shit you got yourself into, knee deep." Mike said bluntly not wanting to mince words.

"Yeah we know and we are not afraid of anyone, but the question here is are you going to suit up or stand on the sidelines like a pansy." John asked the man bluntly.

"I'm with you, if what you say is true than I'm with you." They where interrupted by Mike's cell phone he got up and answered it.

"Hello." He paused "What happened?" another pause "Is Sam okay." Both Winchesters stood-up knowing it wasn't good. "Uh-huh." Another pause this time for a long time "Uh-huh" He widened his eyes "When did he die?" Both men felt their hearts stop, it was too late Sam was dead.

Now I will hid under my bed from all you Sammy freaks who want to kill me.


	9. Chapter 9 Title doesn't fit LOL!

**Great, I am glad everyone enjoyed the story so far, and people are scratching their heads. LOL!!! I will finally tell you guys why the Greens where killed, but sorry why Sammy confessed won't come for another two or three chapters. Happy reading.**

**Chapter 9-Dean Winchester your infuriating**

Dean could feel the anger building inside of him, he didn't feel pain or sadness he felt nothing he was numb except for the anger. He closed his trunk with his shotgun loaded in his right hand and a revolver in his waistband. He turned around and started to walk towards the cabin, McLaughlin was going to pay for what he did to his brother.

John brought his truck to a screeching halt Mike jumped out and ran to the younger man, Dean started to run but Mike wasn't going to let him go in there and commit suicide. He ran faster and tackled Dean.

"You stupid son of a bitch, do you ever think before you do anything?" He yelled holding Dean down.

"What's the point? Sam's dead." He yelled back he wanted to die.

"Maybe if you waited for the phone call to be over maybe you would have heard he isn't dead. You dumb fuck." He was bringing in deep breaths his hands where shaking there wasn't anyone more infuriating than Dean.

"You said he was dead." The hope came back into his eyes.

"No, I have more than one client in prison." Dean laughed, it was a strange laugh and he wasn't sure what he was laughing about but everything was better.

"Dean Winchester you are the most infuriating man I have ever met." He laughed and helped Dean up.

"I don't understand you said Sammy's name."

"Yeah it was the same fight, but he didn't die." Mike reassured again.

Sam woke-up in the infirmary a doctor was suturing his shoulder. His head was pounding and his shoulder felt numb. He could hear the most annoying beeping sound he wished someone would shut the damn thing off.

He moaned the doctor looked-up "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Sam moved his head and squinted at the lights he moaned again at the lights. "Can you turn the lights off?" He moved his hand to cover his eyes but something stopped it, he tried again than realized he was handcuffed to the bed.

"He has light sensitivity." The doctor said not looking up from his work. The nurse switched the light above his bed off.

"What are you doing to my shoulder?"

"You ripped out all of your stitches and tore the wound open, twelve new stitches." He finished than put a new bandage on, the doctor with the nurse's help, lifted Sam up gently and attached a new sling on. Sam felt a pain in his stomach and side and let-out a small scream, than they gently brought him down.

The doctor shone a pen light into Sam's eyes, one at a time "Calm down Sam, I know it hurts but you have to let me examine you." The doctor proceeded to ask numerous simple questions than determined that Sam's concussion wasn't serious.

Sam turned around and saw Robert opening his eyes. "Hey"

"Hey, I'm not going to call you cupcake anymore, how about Tigre?"

Sam smiled anything would be better than cupcake.

"Shut-up, neither one of you is allowed to talk. Your both are in big trouble." One of the guards warned them.

The doctor got-up to leave "Wait, what is that sound? It's giving me a headache can you turn it off?"

The doctor turned around and gave him a strange look "That sound is your heart we will be monitoring you today and tomorrow." The doctor said flatly.

"What? Why are you monitoring my heart? What's wrong with me?" Sam started to panic the beep sound increased.

"Calm down, one of the guards used a stun gun on you and it can affect your heart, its normal procedure." Sam accepted the answer and calmed down.

After a while he fell asleep and was woken-up by the warden. "I am going to address both of you, what you did was stupid…"

"What we didn't do any thing." Sam cut him off the warden gave him an exasperated look.

"You didn't do anything? You started a huge fight. I know you are new here, but you knew the rules, both of you do." He turned his head towards Robert.

"We didn't start the fight." Sam defended.

"That's not what I hear everyone I spoke to said you started it." He paused waiting to see if Sam dares to challenge him. "What you have nothing to say. The way I hear it you approached Morgan and you" He pointed to Sam "Challenged him."

"That's pretty stupid especially with a guy like Morgan. He would have eaten you alive…"

"I never started anything, he wanted to…." Sam's heart rate shot-up and the doctor came in

"Even the guards said you started it." The warden ignored the increasing beeping.

"That's enough warden we need to keep his heart rate down." The doctor commanded.

"I am taking all of your privileges away, no TV, no going outside, no phone calls, no visitors, and your going into isolations for two weeks. That goes for you too Robert but your isolation will be for a month." The warden roared.

"Warden you need to stop…" The doctor shouted.

"What about Morgan? What's his punishment?" Sam yelled back he never felt so angry, not even when he got into it with his father.

"Morgan is dead Robert killed him." The warden snapped back Sam looked at Robert who was smiling "So is your friend Donny, and another prison." He walked closer to Sam "I have three injured guards and including you two troublemakers I also have seven injured prisoners."

He looked into Sam's eyes "You think I don't know who you are? I know you, I see people like you come in and out of here all the time. You live and breathe violence and you know nothing but violence." Sam swallowed hard the warden didn't know how right he was "You will never know anything but violence. Let's add janitorial duties for the rest of the year to your laundry list."

Than the warden turned around to address Robert closing the curtain behind him.

Despite the bad news of Donny's death Sam couldn't fight the urge to fall asleep.

_Sam woke-up in an empty infirmary he looked around wondering where everyone was. He moved his left arm without pain and realized it wasn't in a sling anymore. He looked himself over and saw that he was bleeding in the abdomen he started to panic._

_A nurse came in and placed a hand on his shoulder. She was wearing a very short uniform that barely covered her butt with white fish net stockings. The uniform was very low cut and Sam couldn't help but think Dean would love to be taken care of by this nurse._

_She spoke to him "Shhh!! Don't worry the doctor will be in soon."_

"_What's wrong with me? Why am I bleeding?" Sam questioned nervously he didn't need more injuries._

"_You've been shot Sam but don't worry Dr. Feelgood will be right with you." She said absently, licking her lips obviously thinking of the 'good doctor'._

_Sam became annoyed with her "Dr. Feelgood? I am being taken care of by Dr. Feelgood?" _

_Just when Sam thought it couldn't get any worse a tall man in a Metallica t-shirt and jeans walked in and belched, he took a closer look and saw it was his brother "Dean? What the hell are you doing here?" He half-shouted half-demanded._

_Dean belched again "Dude I'm your doctor." Sam's eyes widened and before he could protest his brother was securing restraints, making sure his little brother wasn't going anywhere._

"_What? You're not doing anything to me." He began to pull at his restraints _

"_Calm down Sammy or I will have to sedate you." He said calmly as he pulled out a syringe with a two inch needle._

"_Oh yeah I'm calm just point that thing somewhere else." He eyed his brother nervously._

"_Good, let's proceed." He cleared his throat and the nurse wheeled a small table to the 'good doctor' and he smiled "You know I have been in a lot of hospitals, and I do mean a lot, but man I have never been taken care of by a nurse with your…" he whistled "surgical skills" _

_They both smiled and moved closer "I have a lot of skills would you like me to show you some of them."_

"_Oh don't mind me while I bleed to death." Sam said sarcastically._

_Dean turned around wearing a leather apron and leather gloves. "Scalpel."_

_The nurse complied and Dean brought the scalpel to Sam's body "Wait don't you need to use an anaesthetic?" _

"_No, now shut-up you're ruining my concentration you don't want me to take your liver out do you?" Sam shut-up and scrunched his face and closed his eyes awaiting the pain._

"_All done." Dean said with a cheerful voice and Sam opened his eyes to see his torso was cut open. "Alright where is that lil' bastard." Dean put both his hands into Sam's body and pulled out a bullet._

"_There it is." Dean said with a smile._

"_Oh my god you actually did it." Sam said shocked._

"_Did you ever doubt I would?" Than as if the bullet had a life of it's own it jumped out of Dean's hand and back into Sam's body. "Slippery lil' bastard." _

"_What are you doing?" Sam could feel his heart pounding as his older brother started to remove all of his organs "Wait I need my liver." Sam yelped._

_Dean started to throw all of Sam's organs out of his body. He stopped when he finally found the bullet "There it is." Dean announced proudly showing it to Sam than he dropped it into a jar._

"_Dean, I have no organs." Sam yelled._

"_Oops." Dean laughed "You know it's not good when the doctor says oops." Than he laughed again but stop when he saw his brother's face "Don't worry I have a replacement." _

_He turned to the nurse than back to Sam holding a very large lock box. Dean placed it inside of Sam and sutured Sam up with floor boards. "There you go, right as rain." Dean said proudly._

"_Wow I feel better." _

"_Of course I'm Dr. Feelgood." Dean said with a smile._

"_Wait I have a huge headache, can you fix that?" He said as he scrunched his face._

"_Oh sorry I don't do freak brains, you'll have to see Dr. Badass for that." Dean said in his doctor voice._

"_Oh god." Than Dr. Badass walked in and belched "Oh god." Sam yelled when he saw it was his father._

_John suited-up in the same leather apron and gloves as his oldest son than pulled out a chain saw. "Okay son this might hurt a little." He covered his face with a welder's mask than quickly flipped it up again "Oh I forgot to tell you I have no idea what I am doing." He revealed with a huge smile._

"_Sam what are you doing?" Sam turned his head to the voice it was Chris Green "I thought you where going to help me?" The room started to fill with ice freezing everyone as it approached them. The ice started to move towards Sam._

"_I thought you where going to help me, you must find it, bring him down." The ice started to cover Sam, he began to shiver and panic. Chris moved closer to Sam "Go upstairs Sam, what are you waiting for go upstairs." He yelled at Sam._

Sam woke-up with a start he was shivering "His temperature is ninety-two point five degrees doctor it's gone down two degrees in five minutes."

"What the hell is going on?" Mike yelled at the doctor from the other side of Sam's bed.

"Mike…" Sam said shakily his skin was pale and his lips where blue "G-g-go up-up-stairs."

"Hey he's awake, calm down Sam." Mike soothed Sam.

"Doctor his temperature is going up."

"Mike, go upstairs."

Dean walked into motel room surprised to see Mike sitting on Sam's bed. "Who the hell are you?" Mike asked bluntly.

The younger man was taken aback by the question and remained silent "I asked you a question who the hell are you?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Dean had an idea Mike knew the truth about the Winchesters.

"I went to see Sam, he was sleeping he started to suffer from hyperthermia. How the hell does someone suffer from hyperthermia in a room that is kept at seventy degrees? What the hell does he mean by go upstairs?" He kept his voice calm and low but Dean could tell Mike was at the end of his rope.

Dean walked to his bed and sat down he looked into Mike's eyes "Alright I will tell you the truth but my dad doesn't know so…keep it between us." Mike nodded.

"Sam is psychic." He paused to get a response from the older man than continued when he saw Mike was still with him. "He had dreams, last year, about his girlfriend dying, and she did, exactly the way Sam saw it. Since than Sam's been having dreams, visions, feelings, whatever."

Mike nodded "So, Sam had a vision…about what?" Still not making the connection between Chris and what he saw at the prison.

"Mike, Chris is dead."

"Son of a bitch." He rubbed his face with his hands.

"Sam had some kind of vision about his death, that's what we are doing here we are looking into his death."

"Alright, is there anything else I need to know?" He braced himself for the worse.

"Uh well do you have a few days? Our family is loaded with secrets." They laughed.

"So, is he okay?" Mike nodded "Sam said go upstairs?" Dean probed.

"Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah, the farmhouse, bring your jacket."

Five years ago

Chris bent down and placed a large lock box into the floor board "There we go." He turned towards his wife seeing a blank stare he tried to reassure her "Don't worry no one will find it here." Than he smiled at her.

"I don't know Chris in here." She said rubbing her arms trying to rid herself of the shakes.

"That's the beauty of leaving it here no one will ever think of looking here." He replaced the flooring than placed the rug over it.

He stood-up and said "It will all be over soon I promise." He smiled than kissed his wife.

"What the hell…" Dean said as he looked at the farmhouse from the driver's seat.

They both got out of the Impala their eyes never leaving the house. The house and the plants that ran around it where frozen solid. They walked towards the house, up the creaky steps, than to the door, the door knob had icicles hanging from it.

"What is going on?" Mike had never seen anything like this before and he was completely dumbfounded.

"Well, I am taking a guess here, but I think Chris froze to death. When someone dies a violent death their spirit can sometimes stay behind taking on the power of their death. Like when someone is frozen to death they can freeze things." Dean turned to Mike who was just realizing how much shit they really where in.

They entered the house and went upstairs, searching each every room. Mike was freaked out by all the furniture that was in the exact same spot they where five year prior.

"Hey Mike in here." Dean shouted and Mike ran into the baby's nursery. Dean had removed the rug and was tapping his knuckles on the floor he looked-up at him "Its hollow." Than he smiled, they removed the flooring and found the lock box.

Dean picked the lock fairly easily lifting the lid he found manila envelopes he handed them to Mike. "What is this?"

Mike looked it over than lifted his head "Its evidence."


	10. Chapter 10 Demons and Nightmares

**Okay so this is chapter 10 and it is taken from Sam's POV he is writting in his journal and being alone starts to get to him. Hope you all like it.**

**Nana56: I got your message and I responded twice but I don't think you got my e-mails. So this is the next best thing. No, I don't have a beta and yes I would love for you to be my beta. Since I don't want to put my e-mail out like this just got to supernatural.tv (I think I saw you there R&R the story Turn your back) just PM me and I will send you the next chapter.**

**Chapter 10---Demons and Nightmares**

**May 4, 2006**

Today was my first day in solitary and now I know why they use it as punishment. I've been in here for about 3 hours and man am I bored. I read one of the books Dean gave me Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, of course he would give me that book, maybe I should have kept the Playboy, man I'm bored. There is no TV, no going to the library, and no one to talk to. That is the worst part I don't know how long I will last in here it's only been 3 hours and I'm already going nuts how am I going to last 2 weeks. Maybe I will get some sleep.

I got some sleep I had a nightmare not the one about Jess it felt like it but it wasn't. I was in my apartment, that damn apartment I can never escape it, I'm lying on my bed and I feel a drop on my head, I jerk, than another drop, another jerk, than I open my eyes, I don't want to open them I know what I will see but I can't control my eyes it's as if someone else opens them. But here is where it changes…….god help me….it isn't Jess it's Dean, he's on the ceiling, he has a gash on his chest he's in so much pain, blood starts to drip from his mouth than he says….oh god help me…..he says "Dad, please don't let it kill me" than he bursts into flames just like Jess. Why….why does Dean say that? What if this is some sort of premonition? What if Dad can save Dean's life and he doesn't…..No I refuse to believe that, Dad would never hurt Dean or let someone else.

I have to go they are serving lunch now.

**May 6, 2006**

The doctor came today, why would they let me out to go to the doctor it is more enjoyable for them to leave me here, to torture me, to slowly watch me loose my mind. I wonder how others have survived being in this cell with no one to talk to, counting the seconds till the minutes ends, than counting the minutes till the hour is over, the endless days, the stuffy air, I can't breath in here. I have began to pace I have to just so I won't sit all the time, to look at the barren brick walls, I have to do so

mething to keep my mind busy.

Man my shoulder is just killing me, my stomach and side are black and blue, and the gash on my head is huge. I'm lucky I got out of that fight alive. The doctor said my shoulder is looking good and in a few days he will let my arm out of this stupid sling, I am so tired of this sling. It's been about 3 weeks since I got shot and every time it starts to heal something happens. He also said there is no after effect of the concussion and I am doing well, maybe I should ask him about my nightmares that would go well, hey doc I keep having nightmares of my brother dying a horrible death at the hands of the demon. Ha! I can see that prick's face when I say that. I started on The Tale of Two Cities, it's the second time around, half-way done what am I going to do when I'm done? Maybe I will get some sleep, I am seriously lacking in the sleep department more than usual.

**May 9, 2006**

This morning when the guard brought the food something happened, I froze when I saw it, I can't believe I am in here, what was I thinking, actually I know what I was thinking, but it must have been the drugs they gave me after my surgery, but I definitely wasn't thinking straight otherwise I would never have plead guilty to a crime I never did. The guard gave me the food and when I looked up he had black eyes, damn it he is possessed. Son of bitch! How could I have been so stupid I should have know he would come after me in here, he's been after me for 22 years what make this any different? I am a sitting duck in here, but I won't go quietly I won't let that murdering bastard take me. He killed Jess, he killed my mother, he ruined dad and Dean's life, no, I won't let him manipulate me, I am strong there is no way in hell I will let that yellow eyed bastard control me I will die first.

**May 10, 2006**

6 days, it's been 6 days in this cell, it's small, cramped, the toilet smells, and it is a little chilly in here. It must be the a/c, the smell of sulphur is almost constant, his eyes are always black, and he made a comment "Did you get away from your dad?" I tried my best not to show any emotions. How the hell did he know about my dream? My dreams, dreams are suppose to be a gateway to the subconscious mind, it's a world that could never exist in the real world but my dreams do exist in the real world, it wouldn't be so bad if the dreams where about anything but death. But that is what I see, death, why? I have asked myself this question so many times it has become tiresome and I feel psychically and emotionally weakened by this question, part of me doesn't want to know the answer, maybe there is no answer maybe this is just who I am. A freak, abnormal, and will never be anything but a freak.

Dad chases me, that's what the dreams are about, I am running at first I don't know who is chasing me I look back, I keep looking back, there is no one there, but than it's my dad, he has yellow eyes, he has demon eyes. I can't escape him, I want to help my father but if I stop running he will catch me. Funny isn't it, if I stop to help my father I risk falling into the demon's hands, but if I keep running I save myself. Oh god I just had an unsettling thought what if this is a premonition? Usually they are vivid it's as if I am there with the person in my nightmare and I am helpless, these are a bit more surreal. Maybe I am just afraid, afraid of what will happen in the future if we don't kill that son of bitch, but than if it is just a dream how did the demon guard know about it? I wish I could call Dean and tell him what I dreamt about than maybe I could warn him but I can't.

**May 12, 2006**

I can't sleep, I haven't slept in two days, why can't I sleep, why is he after me, why the hell did I do this….I hate myself….I keep seeing fire, I close my eyes and I see fire, I see the demon eyes they follow me, they watch me, god help me, now I hear him in my head…..demon guard keeps coming taunting me….he says he will kill my family …..oh god I can hear the demon's voice he won't leave me alone….I am so tired, but I can't sleep, I can't close my eyes, I want to, but every time I do I see Dean's death I see my father possessed, I can't close them I just lie here in hell…. Jess I need you, I need you Dean….but it doesn't matter I am alone, it is what he wants to have me alone to manipulate me…..to turn me into a killer like Max, but I won't I can't.

**May 13, 2006**

I finally got some sleep but I had another nightmare, I must be cursed, Dean just keeps begging dad to save him…maybe he wants me to believe dad wouldn't save Dean….but I know better I know he would never let his own son die just so he could get revenge. He wasn't the best dad when we where growing up but he did love us, I know he did, he proved it at court….he proved it…he wouldn't allow revenge to cloud his judgement this much….would he? How could I question this man's love for us, I knew my whole life he loved me, and now I know he was proud of me too….he would never allow Dean to die….never.

**May 14, 2006**

I stopped eating I can't eat food a possessed guard has given me, I didn't get any sleep last night either….he keeps taunting me, he says he will kill my family….he even goes into details…..son of bitch he is lucky I don't have dad's journal otherwise his ass would have been sent to hell a long time ago.

**May 15, 2006**

I am going to kill the guard I don't know how but I will the son of a bitch demon and his damn evil black eyes why don't they get another guard. It's been 10 days, 10 days of being in hell, no one around me, no one to talk to, of hearing that bastard talking to me, of those stupid nightmares, I have 4 more days, I will survive being in here, and when I get out I will have to ask Dean for the exorcism ritual, he will freak when I tell him there is a demon guard here but I have to do it….there is a human being in there, he has a family, a life, and I can't let a demon destroy him to get to me.

**May 16, 2006**

I still have the salt dad gave me I blew it into the face of the guard and demon screamed in pain. Which is good but the warden heard about it and he is PO'd he gave me 2 more days. He gave me a look like he thought I was crazy….yeah whatever asshole if he only knew what was out there, what his guard really is he wouldn't be giving me that look. He said he wants me to see a psychologist when I get out, he said right away and that it is mandatory, great just what I need a shrink to tell me I am crazy and shoot me full of drugs. They took my salt the demon guard smiled when they took it, but I hid some under my bed, I still have some protection.

**May 18, 2006**

Last day, goodbye hellhole.

Hope you all like it please R&R


	11. Chapter 11 Accountants, cops, & outburst

**Special thanx to Nana56 who beta this for me.**

**Chapter 11---Accountants, Cops, and an Outburst**

Roger Hathaway sat looking at the old dust covered paper, then looked-up at the two young men who sat in front of him.

He cleared his throat, "Well…this will take a while. There is a lot of information here gentlemen."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing; he didn't have time…Sam didn't have time. "What? No, we don't have time my…brother doesn't have time." He clenched his fists. He could feel the anger boiling inside of him.

"I'm sorry, but these things take time." He stared at Dean to gauge his reaction. He continued, "What does this have to do with your brother?" He knew this wasn't any of his business, but his job was a bit boring at times and he was a nosey person.

"My brother is in prison and this might get him out." He clenched his fist even more. He could feel his nails digging into his palms and he didn't care if he shed some blood. He was to blame for Sam's current predicament and he had shed a whole lot more blood than the few drops Dean would.

"He's in for cooking the books?" This was some juicy info and he got excited. This was more than just tax returns!

"It doesn't matter what his brother's in for, can you help us figure out what this is?" Mike interrupted. He didn't want Dean to give out too much information about what they where doing. They really couldn't trust anyone.

"Give me about a week I should be able to figure things out by then."

John looked-up from his papers "Where the hell have you been?" He eyed both men.

"I thought you'd be back by three, but it's now eight thirty. I've been worried sick about Sam. Is he okay?" A small tinge of worry was hidden within his voice.

"John, he's fine. Well…" That 'well' got Dean's attention and he felt the fear and panic build inside of him. "Not 100 fine, he's pretty beat-up. We went to the farmhouse and we found something."

John nodded his head "What did you find?" His excitement was obvious.

"We found evidence!" Dean said with a huge smile.

"Well, don't get too excited, we don't know if this will get Sam out." Mike cautioned, not wanting to give them false hope.

"What kind of evidence?" He asked, ignoring Mike's warning, not wanting to believe Sam would never be free. He had to believe this was Sam's ticket out!

"We found some accounting sheets." Mike sat down, pulling his trousers up to get comfortable. "If we are right about this, we might be able to put embezzling, extortion, or money laundering, on McLaughlin. But, it might not prove that Sam is innocent."

John nodded "This might." He pointed to the table and got up. He picked-up a manila folder that was on the wicker table "You know that old buddy of mine I told you about?" Dean nodded.

"He used his connections and got me into the police station." He said with a huge grin.

"That must be one hell of a connection! There is no way in hell they would let Sam's father anywhere near the case files…let alone take them home!"

"I have my ways of getting around little things like that. Anyway, this is a picture of Robin's face and here is a picture of Michelle's." He put the two pictures side by side

"Now, look at these cuts. The first thing I noticed is that the cuts…" He used his index finger to trace the gashes that where made on the girls face. "Start from the inside out. If someone was right handed, it would have been from outside in. Like this." He took his index finger and pretended to cut Dean in a similar fashion as the two girls, as if the killer was right handed.

"If the person was right-handed it would have been awkward for him to cut from the inside out. The wrist would have been bent in an uncomfortable position and the grip on the knife wouldn't have been strong, but it looks strong here."

"Sam's right-handed." Dean said gleefully.

"Wait. You can tell all of this just by looking at a picture?" Mike wanted to believe this, but he had to make sure all of his bases where covered to get Sam out.

John gave him a stern look "Yes." He said sharply "Also, look at the injuries. They're in the same place and they're cut in similar fashion. I think we have the same killer here."

Mike stood-up "Same killer? You're sure of this?" John nodded.

"It proves Sammy didn't kill Michelle!" John was so happy that Sam wouldn't have to spend any more time in prison.

Mike walked towards the files, studying every little titbit in the files. He had an alarmed look on his face.

"What?" Dean got a pit in his stomach; he was scared Sam wasn't going to get out.

"This isn't the case file I got. Are you sure you got the right file?" He hoped John got the right file, but part of him was hoping John was wrong. He knew what it would mean if John had the right file.

"Yes. Of course I'm sure. What file do you have?" John demanded, unintentionally raising his voice.

Mike didn't answer. He simply walked over to his briefcase, pulled out Sam's file and carefully placed it on the table. They all stared at it for a moment.

Mike took a deep breath and opened the file. Inside were numerous photos of Michelle, which matched John's file, a knife with blood on it, and Sam with blood on him. They mulled over the file for an hour when John finally spoke.

"Dean, this knife…is it Sam's?" He handed Dean the photo for his inspection.

Dean took about two seconds to study it and quickly answered with a negative.

"How do you know? You hardly looked at it." Both Winchester men gave him an indignant stare

"Don't give me that look. I'm the only one on your side and we have to dot our i's and cross our t's." He snapped back. He didn't mean to, but it was getting late and he was feeling it in every inch of his body.

"I know my brother's knife…he has two of them. I have them in his bag."

Dean walked over to his brother's bag. He took a deep breath…it was strange looking through his brother's belongings. He rummaged through some clothes, took a quick look at a picture of Sam and Jess, some books, a journal. Dean took a second and looked at the journal. He was a little surprised as he didn't know Sam even kept a journal. He'd read it later. At the bottom of the bag he found Sam's only two knives.

Holding both knives in his hands, he showed them to Mike. One of them was a ten-and-a-half inch fixed knife, with a blade length of six inches.

Then he showed Mike the folding pocket knife. It was four-and-a-quarter inches long, with a blade length of three inches.

"You're sure these are his only knives?" Dean nodded

"Take a good look at the picture." Dean returned the knife to its sheath and back into Sam's bag. Picking up the picture and showing it to Mike, he continued, "This is an expensive knife that looks like it was custom made. The details are elaborate. I can't say for sure without seeing the knife, but it looks like it was hand carved. Sam can't afford a knife like this. He testified that he had the knife with him, but there is no way this is his."

Dean took a deep breath and his muscles relaxed. They'd been tense ever since Sam got arrested.

"Alright, I found other inconsistencies with the two files. In the one I got, the autopsy report says that Michelle died from a laceration to her lungs…basically, she suffocated to death. But, in the one John got, it says she died from multiple stab wounds to the heart."

John took a deep breath, trying to take everything in. He shook his head. His son had really gotten himself into some deep shit! Dean kept stroking his chin…he was anxious about Mike's response to everything. He was scared that no matter what they found, Sam wasn't getting out anytime soon.

"This tattoo! I've never seen it before and it's not in my file." He felt disgusted at how someone could botch this case…crooked or overzealous cops or a new detective who had something to prove.

"Son of a bitch I knew the cops were crooked! Now we have proof!" Dean yelled.

"It doesn't mean the cops are crooked. It might just be that they wanted to close the case, no matter what." He looked Dean in the eyes, waiting for the fall-out from what he'd just said.

Dean clenched his fist and tightened his jaw. He was taking in sharp breaths, trying his best to calm himself down, to no avail. He could feel the tension building and he wanted to punch someone, anyone, so badly he could feel it in every part of his body. His hands shook and his lips quivered, but he didn't attack…Mike was Sam's only hope and his only hope.

"Besides, John got this illegally and we have to do it legally. I can go to the police station tomorrow and look it over." With that Mike packed everything up. "We _will_ get Sam out." He reassured before exiting the room.

The Winchester men sat in the motel room quietly for a half an hour, neither knowing what to say to the other man. They wanted to comfort each other, but neither really knew how, so they remained silent, feeling the awkward seconds pass by. It was well past midnight when they finally fell asleep, feeling every ache and pain in their bodies.

The next day John walked into a small diner and sat at one of the stools. He picked-up a menu and sighed softly. His eyes were red and the small of his back was stiff and sore. He didn't get much sleep, but Dean got a lot less and he thought he would allow his eldest to sleep a little while longer. He needed some time to rest and, hopefully, when he woke up, he would have a clear head. John scrubbed at his eyes, rubbing the exhaustion from them. Taking another deep breath, he gave the menu another glance.

Nothing new. All the diners he'd been to offered the same "Grand-slam breakfast", it was nothing special. He flinched when he felt someone put their hand on his shoulder and, looking up, he saw it was Mike.

"You okay?" Mike still had his hand on John's shoulder. The look on Mike's face told the veteran hunter he either looked like crap or it wasn't good news.

"Yeah, just tired." Mike removed his hand, but kept the concerned look on his face. He was worried about these men. They'd both take it hard if Sam spent the rest of his life in prison.

Not wanting to get into small talk, John asked, "Did you find anything?"

"Why don't we sit at my booth? We can eat together and talk." Mike said flatly.

John got up and walked to the booth that was just a few feet from where he'd been sitting. He was a little surprised to see an attractive and very pregnant woman sitting there. The younger man sat beside her and put his hand over her shoulders. John sat, giving him an expectant look.

"Oh, this is my wife Elizabeth. She works for me." He laughed "She's my secretary. You know the old cliché about the boss sleeping with his secretary." He laughed again "This way I get both, I get to sleep with the secretary and the wife."

John laughed at this, "How many months are you?"

"I'm due in two weeks. I'm supposed to go on Mat leave soon, but my boss is a real hard ass." She giggled.

Mike made a face and held her even tighter. John started to play with his ring…he missed his wife the most when he saw happy couples.

"So, what did you find?"

Mike swallowed hard and removed his arm "Nothing. The file I got and the file they have is exactly the same."

John said nothing, but his facial expression spoke volumes. "When you got the file, where did you get it from?"

"I got it from a room with other closed cases, why?" He scrunched his eyebrows together as the waitress came to take their orders. When everyone had ordered, she smiled and left.

"You see, when I go for their case files and evidence, they give it to me, but you went into the room. The cops gave me the file, but I'm thinking they gave me the doctored file and you got the real one."

"How do we prove it?" Knowing it would be impossible to prove, he asked anyway.

"Unless we can get someone to rat out one…." He paused as the waitress brought the food, then left "One of them ratting out the one who changed everything is really unlikely. Cops stick together."

"In other words, Sammy's not getting out." John felt sick to his stomach "Sorry, I've lost my appetite." He got up.

"I'm sorry John." His heart broke for John, who would have to visit his son through a tempered glass window for the rest of their lives.

"I know, but thanks for the help."

"We still have the evidence from the farmhouse. We can still bring McLaughlin down." He said, trying his best in vain to brighten the situation.

John mumbled a "Yeah" as he walked away. Unfortunately, the thin man in the grey suit overheard their whole conversation.

**One week later **

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Roger said as he entered the small office and sat down "You guys really did find something."

Dean sat motionless with his feelings in a box, buried deep. He'd been quiet ever since he heard the bad news from his father.

"This is huge! Whoever these belong to has been up to no good." He paused to get a reaction from the men in front of him, but they both just sat there quietly so he continued.

"Alright. There seems to be some money coming from the strip club, money that was most likely made illegally. I found that some of the businesses have been laundering the illegal money from the strip club."

He pulled out some of the sheets and put them in front of the two men and they both leaned forward. Now their interest had been piqued.

"Especially the construction company. They show here that they did jobs for businesses or for homeowners that don't even exist. I checked the names out they definitely don't exist. In layman's terms, they say they did work they never did, making it look like they made money they never made. The money they supposedly made is really the money that was made illegally from the strip club!" He smiled.

"Now, I found something else in these. This man…" He shuffled the papers a little.

"See this man, he is only identified as Thomas, they deposited quiet a bit of money into his account several times. I think this is proof of bribery; possibly someone in power, someone who is keeping the illegal activities quiet."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean finally said and Roger smiled.

"Took the words right out of my mouth." Mike said with a smile. "Any ideas who this Thomas might be?"

"This account is from Union bank in South Dakota. It will be impossible to get their records without a warrant."

**Three days later.**

Dean sat on his bed watching as his father packed his bags. He had argued with his dad for an hour and a half, trying to get him to stay. He'd lost the argument and now, as he sat there in this god forsaken room in this god forsaken town watching his father leave once again, he couldn't help but feel that he'd lost his family and had failed his little brother.

John turned around and saw his son's vacant stare "I'm sorry son."

Dean met his gaze with tears in his eyes. He rubbed at them, hoping they wouldn't spring a leak, but the rubbing caused the tears to fall down his face.

"I know you are, but we are so close to getting this son of bitch! Dad, we have evidence; we have evidence that McLaughlin is a slime ball. We might have another suspect in Michelle's murder. We can get Sam out, why are you giving up?" His voice was small and broken. He felt physically and emotionally drained from everything that had happened in the last month.

His father sat down "We're not getting Sam out, Dean…."

"How can you say that?" He snapped back, standing up and wiping away the tears.

"I can say that because it's true." John barked back as he also stood-up.

Dean was about to say something he thought he would never say to his father. He was going to tell him that he was a lousy father, that he didn't believe in his youngest son and he was just running away. He took a deep breath to gather-up his strength.

"I hate you." Dean growled. He hated his father for giving-up. He'd spent twenty-three years chasing a demon and never gave up, but now, when it seemed hopeless, he _was_ giving-up.

"You spent twenty-three years chasing that son of bitch. You never gave up trying to find mom's killer, but when your son needs you, you leave." Dean let-out a shaky breath.

"If you give-up, what kind of father are you? You're not even a father…a father loves and cherishes his sons, he listens to them, takes time out for them, he's there and _not_ out on another hunt. Sam was right about you the whole time." His lip was quivering and he was breathing heavily as if he'd just run a marathon.

When he was done, he looked at his father for the first time in two weeks. John's eyes were red, tired and had black circles under them. His face was worn and his beard had grown to a thicker bush than he usually kept it. Dean's face softened when he realized what he'd just said to his dad. He really didn't mean it and he could see the pain he'd inflicted on his father. Why had he said those things? Was he so stressed that he would be so blatantly cruel to his own father?

John couldn't believe what his son, who never said anything bad to him, who he thought would never have had this opinion of him, had just ripped through him. It started to become difficult to breathe. Dean meant every word he'd just said and it was said with such hate and venom it had nearly knocked him off of his feet.

Dean stood there waiting for John to rip him a new one, but John just turned around, hiding the new tears that had fallen down his face.

"Dad…" John put a hand-up to stop him and continued to pack up his things.

The younger man wasn't going to give-up. He opened his mouth to try again, but was interrupted by his phone ringing.

"What?" He bellowed into the phone.

"Dean, it's me," came the voice of his little brother. Dean was so relieved to hear his voice!

"Sammy…."

"I need you to come see me and bring dad's journal. Don't ask why, just bring it. And hurry, okay? I need you to bring it to me right now. Don't stop and buy some stupid candy, no flirting with some bimbo, just get here NOW!!" Then he hung-up.

Dean stared at his phone for a second, shocked by his brother's odd behaviour.


	12. Chapter 12 Attacked

It had been twenty-five minutes since Dean left. Thirty minutes since Dean told his father how he _really_ felt. John still gripped the shirt in his hands, his gaze slightly to the left, lost in thought. He wondered how long Dean had wanted to say this to him. Did he really mean it? Maybe it was just stress? Maybe he really did hate his father. John gripped the shirt even tighter; he looked down at his ring realizing he had failed the mother of his children. She loved her sons, and one of them was going to spend the rest of his life in a cage, like an animal. John started to imagine Sam in prison, Sam in a orange jumpsuit in a tight cage, walking down the halls with other inmates, looking at him…John shook himself out of this thought…no, no way would Sam ever be in that situation. He looked down at his shirt again and slammed it into his bag. He started to slam his fist into his pillow, not hard at first, but the more he hit the harder the punches. He was so angry, so frustrated, the evidence was right there but he still couldn't get his son out. He stopped, this was pointless. He didn't feel any better and he wasn't helping Sam, either. He became lost in his thoughts again, but was quickly interrupted by a knock at the door.

Dean sat in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel tightly. He stared down the road, watched the solid yellow line turn into a broken yellow line and he watched as countless vehicles passed him. The down pour of early morning now a light drizzle and Dean hardly registered the occasional whooshing sound of the windshield wipers. He barely registered that he was even driving; his mind kept going back to the words he would regret for the rest of his life "I hate you"

Why? Why had he said that to his dad? His father was his hero…he could do no wrong…Dean couldn't blame him for leaving. Dean, himself, had been looking at the classified ads for jobs in Queens. He too had given-up. So, the question remained, why? Why was he so angry at his father for doing the same thing he had done, given-up?

He took a deep breath as he approached the bridge to the hell hole his little brother now called home, and then he took another deep breath, wondering why he had requested their father's journal.

Mike walked into his house. Elizabeth had called to tell him her water had broken. He had boasted to everyone at work that his boy was coming. He had no proof it was a boy, but he boasted about it anyway. He had the biggest and the goofiest smile on his face as he walked through the door. It was gone the minute he saw the thin man in the grey suit sitting in his living room and another man with a gun to his wife's head.

A large man's head cracked hard against the motel's pristine pale yellow paint leaving a small smear of blood as he crumpled to the ground. John turned around in time to catch the other man's fist in mid-air. Unfortunately, John didn't see the stun-gun in the first man's hand. He convulsed and his eyes rolled back. He could feel every electrode pulsing through his body. He couldn't move; it was as if he was frozen in time…the pain stopped, and he fell to the ground. Still conscious, he felt every punch and kick they laid into him.

"Oh, honey, you're home, how nice. My water broke." He mocked, smiling with his legs stretched out on top of the coffee table and his hands behind his head.

"Who...who….who are you?" Mike managed.

"It doesn't matter who I am, what matters is what you know." His voice now very serious, he straightened-up.

"What I know? You mean…." Mike could feel the tears in his eyes, he tried his best to stay composed, but the tears had a life of their own and they fell at free will.

"Yes, I do _mean that…._what do you know about the money coming from the strip club?" His voice became more threatening.

"I…I…I…" Mike tried his best not to look at his wife. With the pistol firmly pressed against her temple, she was trembling, crying.

"Answer me, damn it, what do you know? You piece of shit." The man shouted at him, he had very little patience and the small amount he had was wearing beyond thin.

"I know you have been….." He took in several deep breaths, he was shaking. He tried so hard not to look at his wife. "You have been involved in illegal activities. I know you have been using the construction company to launder the money….from the strip club." He looked-up at the man in the grey suit who was nodding his head.

"Where is the evidence?" He asked in a calm voice.

"I don't know….Dean….Dean and John took it somewhere, I don't know where." His voice was small, broken, and weak; he couldn't protect his wife or child.

"You know nothing, and if you ever think of remembering anything, remember this." He turned his head to the other man and nodded.

The other man removed the pistol from Elizabeth's temple and punched her in the stomach. She screamed in agony. Mike ran to her aid as the other two men went to the door.

The thin man turned around and said "You know nothing." and left.

Dean looked deep into his brother's tired and red eyes, he looked down at Sam's shaking hand than back up again. "You loo…" he started.

"I know how I look. I just haven't been getting any sleep. Did you bring it?" He quickly cut his older brother off.

"Oh, I'm fine; it's been great stressing about you being in here. I mean it's not like we're putting on lives in danger trying to prove your innocence."

"I never asked you to prove my innocence, that's your own doing. I told you I did it, why won't you believe me?" Sam's hand started to shake a little bit faster. He clenched it when Dean was looking at it.

"I won't believe you because it isn't the truth."

"Did you bring it?" Sam asked again ignoring Dean's answer.

"Yeah I did…but I'm not giving it to you." He took a deep breath as he saw the look of fear and shock on his brother's face. He had a plan, and he was going to stick to the plan no matter what.

Before Sam could protest, Dean continued. He gripped his father's journal a little tighter for courage. He had an idea what Sam wanted the book…for there must be a demon in the prison.

"I know you need it…but you need to start telling the truth. What happened when you went to see Michelle?"

As Dean waited for a response, he could hear Sam's breathing becoming a bit quicker and his fist started to tremble. Sam tightened it to make it stop.

"When I got there the door was open, I walked in and Michelle was dead on the floor. I went to check on her and I saw something in her hand. I picked it up and the next thing I know the cops come in and shoot me." It felt so good to tell the truth, that he wasn't a cold blooded killer, but mostly he wasn't a rapist!

The elder let out a long deep breath. It felt so good; it was like he had some kind of toxin inside of him that had just been expelled, to finally know the truth.

"Now can I have the book?" Sam repeated. He was starting to sound like a broken record.

"No, we're not done."

"What? Dean…."

"I said we're not done." He snapped back "I want to know why you confessed."

Sam was quiet for a while. Dean started to get nervous and, although he couldn't hear Sam's shaking hand lightly tapping the table, it still irritated the hell out of him.

"There….there was this man. He didn't tell me who he was, or how he knew Michelle…he just said he had business associates who….who would benefit if I said I did it." He paused for a moment.

"He said I had to confess. I told him what I thought of him and then he showed me some files he had on us." He watched Dean to see the reaction he knew he would have.

"On us?" He repeated, stunned and angry. How the hell did these bastards know so much about them? Especially since they spent so much time covering up who they really where.

"Yeah, they had some misdemeanours on you and me, but…..they….had a murder charge on dad."

Dean stared at Sam for a very long time. He didn't know what to do, or what to say. A murder charge…on their father...on his hero…no it couldn't be! John would never take a human life, never!

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam was even more scared. He had broken his big brother's heart, again. He had been doing a lot of that lately; he wished he could make it better.

"Dean, it isn't true, he didn't kill a human…" He looked around wearily

"It was a hunt, a shape shifter. Remember when you got the flue, dad ordered you to stay behind, then, when we got there I got the flue. Dad went on the hunt by himself….and someone caught him. The son of a bitch would have killed him, but he couldn't tell them that so we ran."

Sam swallowed hard, anxiously waiting for Dean's response.

As Dean sat there in a stupor, still with no words, Sam continued.

"They had some fingerprints, hair, DNA, and then he says he can make it look like the ones the shape shifter did, would be pinned on dad. I just wanted to protect him, he has enemies, and the demon will stop at nothing to get to dad."

"The demon will stop at nothing to get to you." Dean finally found his voice. It seemed he had to remind Sam of this fact.

"I know. Can I have the book now?" He was at the end of his rope. The exhaustion and solitary had taken a toll on him he hadn't expected.

"Just tell me what you need and I will write it down." giving in to the younger man's request. He had an idea of what he needed, but he had to hear it to make sure.

"An exorcism."

Dean's drive home was a frantic one. He got a call from Mike telling him they had been attacked and he and his father where in danger. Dean called his father's cell a million times, always getting the voicemail. That was strange as John had kept it on since coming here. Dean made a right turn into the motel parking lot. Getting out, he grabbed his .45 and made his way to the open door. He searched the room. It had been trashed; a blood stain was on the floor and a message on the wall in blood.

Cabin 4:30 or he dies.

Dean swore loudly, it was already 4:15! He hoped he wouldn't be too late.


	13. Chapter 13 Failure

**Thanx to everyone who reviewed, I really do appreciate it. This is chapter 13, and chapter 14 will be coming really soon. I just have to quickly fix some things. After that there is only one more chapter, and it will (hopefully) shock all of you.**

**Chapter 13---Failure**

Kyle McLaughlin had met a lot of hot shots in his line of work; they all where young, brash, and always had something to prove. They all believed if they took him down they would be untouchable. But they underestimated him, they always did. Kyle McLaughlin rose through the ranks by being ruthless. He could get anyone to talk, no matter how strong their resolve was. His crowning achievement was back in '99, when he tortured his ex-boss and mentor after he ratted to the feds. After twenty-two hours of torture he was sent back to his wife in three small boxes; they still haven't found the rest of him.

He looked Dean over, spread eagle, as one of his men padded him down, pulling out a .45, and a three inch knife. The man threw both weapons on the table and pushed Dean forward.

"Where's my dad? You son of bitch." Dean hissed.

"Don't worry, you'll see him, just don't try anything." Kyle responded with a thin grin.

They walked into another room…it was empty. Dean started to get nervous as Kyle bent down and removed a small rug revealing a trapped door. He was lead down the steps to a room, but John wasn't there. Dean didn't know how to feel…he was relieved his father wasn't in that chair, but the young man strapped to the chair, his body shaking, bloody, the look in his eyes, shook Dean to the core. What Dean saw would stay with him for the rest of his life.

"Ppppplease he…help….me!" The young man's voice quivered, pleading with a man he knew couldn't help him, but he had to try he couldn't take any more.

Kyle laughed "You think he can help you?" He laughed again "He can hardly help himself."

"Why am I here? Where's my dad?" Panic and desperation taking over him, he let it show, but caught himself. He couldn't let it show now! Kyle smiled; Dean was right where he wanted him.

"I want you to see what I do to people who cross me. Your brother going to prison…" He smiled at Dean as he could see the fear in him. He loved that look, he fed off of it and knowing that he put that fear in people made him feel alive. "…was nothing. This young man is an assassin, hoping to work his way up. He attempted to kill me." He paused, giving Dean a chance to respond.

"Kill you….huh! I can't see why anyone would want to kill someone as kind and charming as you."

Kyle's smile grew. He turned and with a slight nod of his head the other man picked up a large eight inch knife with a serrated edge and proceeded to cut off the young man's fingers. The sight of the blood….his hand, Dean had seen some horrific things, all done by something evil…but this….they where humans….torturing and ripping apart other humans!

Dean knew he couldn't help him, but he couldn't just let them torture the kid to death. He ran towards him but Kyle had one mean right hook. Dean fell to the cement floor with a loud thud and involuntarily grunted. Kyle grabbed him by his short spikes and pulled him up, blood pouring out of his noise.

"Let's go see daddy." He laughed again and shoved the young hunter forward. He really was enjoying himself! He was going to have a lot of fun with these Winchesters, and when he was done with father and son, he would move on to the other boy. But, he would take his time with Sam; he would really make him suffer. Sam knew….he knew what Kyle had done.

Dean touched his thumb to his broken nose and stared at the blood; his hand was trembling. What were they going to do to him? What were they going to do to his dad? What have they already done to him….? Dean could feel his breath hitch….show no fear, show no fear, show no fear….he repeated the mantra in his head. He had to be strong, no matter what….he had to be strong, but, he couldn't. He saw his dad, and lost any strength he had.

John was strapped to a metal chair…it looked like the one from The Green Mile. His arms were strapped to the arm rest, palms-up, his legs strapped to an extension of the chair, his feet bare, toes pointing to the ceiling. The two hunters locked eyes for a moment. With pain and shame in John's eyes, he pulled them away. Dean's eyes quickly looked over John's broken frame; bruised, bloody, black and blue… broken.

He moved forward "Sit in the corner." Kyle ordered, but Dean didn't obey. Dean felt a sharp pain in his side and gasped, holding his side, willing the pain to stop.

"I said, sit in the corner!" Kyle screamed his orders again. Dean obeyed this time; a henchman attached a leather collar with a chain connected to the wall around Dean's neck. He then handcuffed Dean's hands together. Dean's hands shook slightly; he kept his eyes to the left not wanting to see his dad…what they would do to him.

John saw the shock in his son's eyes…he'd never wanted to see that look on either of his sons. It made him feel ashamed, humiliated, he looked away. He couldn't do this….not in front of Dean. His older son adored him and he loved to see that admiration, but after this he'd never see that look ever again. Kyle walked towards John. He rolled up his sleeves and, taking his index finger he softly ran it down John's palm.

He looked over his shoulder, "You know the palm and the soles of the feet are very sensitive…" He turned around facing the younger man. "Look at your father, boy." He waited for Dean to comply, but when he didn't Kyle nodded. The henchman grabbed Dean's chin and a tuff of hair, forcing Dean to look. Kyle turned back to his newest victim.

"I don't do this anymore. I quit a while ago as I had other things to occupy my mind. But, you and your sons….you've brought me out of retirement." He smiled at John and, without taking his eyes off of his victim, he reached for a leather whip that was eight inches long, and three inches wide. He lifted it a few inches above John's palm slowly. Then he began to whip John's right palm, one, two, three, four….ten, eleven, twelve, strikes, one after another after another, mercilessly, ruthlessly. John, bit his lip harder with each strike, keeping his cries of pain, and the urge to beg for it to stop at bay.

Kyle finally stopped at fifteen. His breathing was quick, but smiling, he gripped the whip tighter, looking the older man over. He was excited, John was a tough man. It would take a while to break him, but he'd break…eventually, they all did. He moved to the left palm and repeated the process and John started to whimper. Blood trickling down his chin, he was breaking. One, two, three, four….ten….fifteen more. Kyle turned around to Dean and, taking out a small handkerchief from his pant pocket, he wiped the whip and showed it to him. It was soaked with his father's blood.

"Now you know what I will do to get what I want. Tell me where the evidence is." His voice was calm, his eyes seething with hatred for the two men in the room.

"No, don't say anything Dean." John whispered, just loud enough for Dean to hear. In one fluid movement Kyle turned around and slapped John across the face.

"I…I…I don't know what you're talking about." Dean's voice was a mere whimper, a tear running down his face.

Kyle was taken aback a little, but then he moved to John's feet. Now John was screaming.

"Don't say anything Dean." John's screams echoed through out the basement of torture. Each time he finished, he turned to the younger man and wiped the whip. Dean was now openly sobbing. He couldn't help it; he'd never seen his father in so much pain, or heard him scream so loud.

"Please….stop; stop hurting my father….please." Dean begged.

"Tell me what I want to know, boy." He spat out in disgust and venom.

"Alright…." Dean sobbed.

"No…Dean…we need to help Sam." John said. His voice was shaking and he was barely able to finish his sentence.

"Shut-up!" Another smack to John's face.

"It's, it's at the Green's farmhouse." Shaking now, Dean felt like a failure, he couldn't protect his little brother and he'd betrayed his father.

Kyle left.

"So, they talked."

"Yeah." Kyle said not facing the man in front of him, unrolling his sleeves. "The boy said something interesting."

"Really….what?"

"He said the evidence was at the farmhouse." He spat out, angry at his failure. "I thought you said you looked everywhere. How the hell did you miss it?" Now staring into the man's eyes, he would've killed him for his blatant stupidity if he wasn't so valuable.

"I did, he must have hidden it….or…" Pausing for a moment to mull over what he just heard.

"Or? Or what?" He clenched his fists.

"He's lying. Give me a moment….I'll get the truth out of him."

"You better, or else…."

"Or else what? You'll replace me…? Doubtful." He said with false arrogance.

The man walked into the room, looked at John, spat in his face, then walked over to Dean.

"Sheriff?"


	14. Chapter 14 Karma

**Hey everyone, thanx for all your reviews. Here is chpt 14, it ties everything up nicely, so I hope you all like it.**

**Chapter 14---Karma's a bitch!**

Dean heard the bone snap, the sickening crack resonating in his ears, the pain overwhelming his senses. He could hear his father screaming, but the words had no meaning…the pain of his broken arm was the only thing that made sense. He heard someone scream in pain and he wondered if it was his dad, or another unfortunate soul. His breathing becoming laboured, he started to hyperventilate. His dad was screaming more, but who was he screaming at? Was he in pain?

_Breathe damn you, breathe!_

The room started to swim, his eyes rolled back, the pain and the screams became distant…a loud smack! brought him back.

"He told you everything, leave him alone." He heard that, his father wasn't in pain, not physical pain…have to be strong…have to be…strong.

_Smack!_

"Stay with me…." Dean opened his eyes, slowly…they closed again…._Smack!_

"I'm here…stop! I'm here!" Dean managed.

"Your lying, I know you are."

"I'm not…I swear." Dean croaked out.

"I searched that damn house up and down, every nook and cranny…there is no way I missed anything." The Sheriff snapped.

"You…you murdered them." Dean's breathing hitched, the pain from his broken arm threatening to overtake him again.

"You murdered an innocent woman, and her baby." The hatred and disgust spilled out of John. This man murdered an innocent woman, wife, and mother; the same way the demon murdered his Mary…she was innocent.

The Sheriff laughed "She wasn't innocent…she was guilty as sin. How do you think we found out about the evidence Green had on us? Me and her, we were together; Chris was just too busy breaking the law to notice his beloved was fucking someone else."

"Then why did you kill her?" John inquired he still couldn't fathom why he would kill this woman. Innocent or not, she was still a mother.

"She knew too much…..we'll kill you too, but, maybe Sam will live. If you don't start telling the truth, we'll make you both suffer, then…._we will start on your Sammy_." He smiled, knowing it was a weak spot for both of them.

"I told you the truth…it was in Kate's nursery, in the floor board."

"Is it still in the house?"

Dean nodded.

"Get-up." The Sheriff ordered as he undid Dean's restraints.

"If you try anything, we'll kill your father." He looked over his shoulder "If you try anything John, we'll kill both of your boys and leave you to suffer for the rest of your life." He smiled knowing neither man would try anything.

br 

Dean hit the hard, cold ground solidly on his broken arm and he grunted and cursed under his breath.

"Get-up." Kyle yelled as he lifted Dean up by his short spikes. He pushed Dean towards the house and froze at the sight of the icicle house.

"What the fu…." He drifted off.

The Sheriff led the two men into the house.

"Where?" The Sheriff snapped.

"In the Living room."

The Sheriff nodded as they all walked into the living room. In front of him was Chris Green.

"Oh my god…Chris…you're dead!" The Sheriff choked out before Chris threw a poker through his neck.

He staggered backwards from the impact as the poker sliced right through his neck. Choking, his hand went to his neck and he fell to his knees as a sickening gurgling sound came from him; he took his last breath as he fell to the floor face down.

Kyle went numb for a second then decided to leave. He turned around to see Dean.

"Karma's a bitch."

"I don't think so." A female voice came from behind him; he turned around to see Sophia pointing a .22 pistol at his face.

"Sophia?" He whispered, the betrayal stinging sharply.

"Sweetheart…what great timing." Kyle said elated, not wanting to show how relieved he really was to see her.

"You bitch! How could you? You've been playing me the whole time." His voice was calm, but the anger in his voice would make anyone quiver. She held the gun firmly.

"I pay her good money to do that." Kyle said with pride.

"And you fell for it like an idiot. I started this mess and now it's time to take care of it." She said as she emptied her pistol. Dean's heart stopped. He staggered a few steps as he watched Kyle fall to the floor, blood quickly pooling around him.

Sophia dropped the gun on the floor, meeting Dean's eyes.

After a while, the shock wore off and Dean spoke. "What the fuck, Sophia?"

She walked to the sofa and sat down; a thin layer of dust polluted the air.

"He raped me, when I was fifteen. I thought he was prince charming, but it turned out that he was Satan. When I heard about Robin, I knew it was him." She starred off to the side.

"I told Chris what he did to me…that he killed Robin. Chris told me that he would take care of everything, that he would make Kyle confess…then nothing…he was gone. I knew they had killed him."

Dean swallowed hard at her admission. "That's why I didn't tell you. I knew they would have killed both of you if I did. He paid me to keep an eye on you I paid off the construction workers. I took the money, and I spent it with no shame."

He didn't know what to say. What could he say? He'd never dealt with this before, so he said the only thing he thought would help, "I'm sorry, about what happened to you."

She looked-up at him. "Don't be," bitterness and anger in her eyes. He'd never seen it before; she hid her pain well. She felt no shame about taking blood money. Who was this woman?

"What about this mess, how are we going to explain this?" He asked, bewildered. For the first time in his life, he really didn't have a convenient lie to tell the cops.

"Kyle killed the Sheriff, and I will confess." She said unemotionally.

She got-up and they both walked towards the door.

"Wait…..you have to bury us, please. I'm sick of being trapped in this house." Chris pleaded.

"Where are you?" Dean inquired.

He walked towards the centre of the room, turned and said. "Here….all three of us."

"We'll come back for you." He reassured Chris's spirit.

br 

John watched his son sleep; he couldn't take his eyes off of him. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. His son, Dean, his pride and joy, was alive and well. Sam would be getting out, hopefully soon. He'd have to go through a lot of red tape before he got out, but at least he _would_ be getting out.

"Dad." John turned his head to see Sam, in regular clothes, out of prison.

"Hey, Sammy." John said loudly, waking Dean.

"Sam….you're out?" Dean raised himself up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Not exactly." Sam said, showing his hands in cuffs. "It's a day pass. With my only living relatives both in the hospital, and the Sheriff being corrupt, the warden allowed it."

He walked to his father and sat down. Now, they could see the guard who was hidden behind him, his hand hovering over his hoister.

"Your hands." Sam said shocked, he knew what had happened but to see the multiple whip marks and stitches was unnerving.

"I'll be okay." John reassured.

"This is my fault…I'm sorry, I should have told Dean the truth…never should have done what they wanted me to do." He said hanging his head in shame.

"I know what they did to you. I'm sorry….I'm sorry this is how we had to see each other again." He sniffed and blinked, not wanting to loose it in front of John.

"It's not your fault, you did what you thought was right….you were protecting me, you didn't have to, but, I'm…" John smiled and lifted his son's face; he wanted to look him in the eyes as he told him this. "I'm proud of you, son." A single tear fell down Sam's face, and John wiped it away.

"It's not your fault. They were the bad guys…it's their fault." John said softly. Sam wasn't use to this tone from his dad and it surprised him. Sam thought he must be tired.

"Now you're going to get-out." John smiled.

"Um…well, not really." Sam said nervously.

"What?" Both men yelled at the same time.

"You remember that fight." John nodded and Sam could see the disappointment in his eyes, forgetting the 'I'm proud of you.'

"Well, they're going to charge me with assault. They weren't going to, because I was already serving a life sentence, but, now they are."

"Son of a bitch." Dean said under his breath.

"You really got yourself into a fine mess, didn't you, Sam." He shook his head, than looked away.

br 

A few days later, John was carefully walking around the motel room, packing his things to leave his sons…again.

"Dad, let me do that." Dean said as he grabbed the shirt from John's hands. John slowly walked back to his bed.

"You could wait a few more days…" He knew it was futile but he had to try.

"No. I have to get going. I wish I could stay and recover, but we are in danger, and I have to get going." It hurt him to say the words; he didn't just want to stay to recover. He wanted to stay for his sons…why didn't he just say that?

Dean was going to respond when there was a knock on the door. Dean answered it.

"Hey, Mike."

"Hey, Dean." He walked into the room "Sam got sentenced today. The prosecutor pushed for it. He got two months, one year probation, and he is being transferred to minimum security next week. Which means no plexy glass, regular clothes, more freedom, and most importantly the inmates are not as dangerous."

"That's not bad." Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Getting out would have been better, but Dean was willing to take whatever he could get.

"Man, you guys look like shit." Mike observed, now looking them over.

"Thanx." Dean said sarcastically. "The beaten and tethered look always worked for me."

Mike shook his head "I was thinking, Dean, you did a great job with everything that happened with Sam. And, with Elizabeth gone, it just leaves me and the baby." He felt the tears stinging his eyes and looked down, not wanting them to see him weak.

"I need someone to help me, you know with the research." He started to fidget with his blazer a little.

"Are you offering me a job?" Both Winchester men laughed.

"I think he is." John said with a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Mike asked a little insulted.

"I've never had a job. I mean the whole ghost busting thing is my job," Dean shrugged.

"Well, Sam isn't getting out for a while, so I thought, why not. Plus, you're an alright guy…I can somewhat stand to be near you." Mike said with a smile.

Dean laughed. "Making money legally?" He took in a deep breath. "How much?"

"Sixteen dollars an hour and bonuses with anything good you can find me."

"I'd be like a P.I., oh, like Magnum P.I. in a mansion, and women with huge knockers, and string bikinis, and a bitchin' Corvette, and…."

"Dean!" John scolded, but Mike laughed.

"Thanx, I needed that after…" Mike's voice trailed off again, looking down.

"I'm sorry." Mike nodded, accepting his condolences. "So, is that a yes?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "I guess so, but I need to know more before I can completely commit."

"That's fine; we'll work things out later." He said as he left the motel room.

"I wonder if I'll get more chicks now that I'll be a P.I." Smiling at the idea, Dean momentarily forgot what he was doing.'

"Dean." John's voice broke in.

"Huh…? Oh, right, packing." He said solemnly and went back to packing-up his father's stuff.


	15. Chapter 15 Collection Agency

**Hey everyone this is the last chapter of my story (sad I know) but there is some good news there is a sequel to this story it's called The Collector. It will take place a few hours after the ending of the story.**

**Warning: The Ending will make you scream and may cause heart failure, I am not liable for any thing. LOL!!! **

**Special thanx to SamanthaDean who read my other story and has always given me great reviews. And to Nana56 who did a great job being my beta. **

**Chapter 15----The Collection Agency**

The thin man in the orange jumpsuit walked the halls of Riker's prison, it had been a few days since he arrived, and he still hadn't seen Sam. He gave a sigh of relief as he entered his cell and lay down on his bed.

A medium sized man covered in tattoos walked in and said "Hey, bitch, get on your knees!"

He sat-up…disgusted by what was just said. He wasn't use to people talking to him like that and he was still very arrogant. "Excuse me, who the hell do you think you are?"

"He's a friend of mine." He looked-up and saw Sam. He swallowed hard, but, still very arrogant he got-up to challenge the 6'4 man. Noting the gesture, Sam pushed the man back onto the bed.

"Gregory Smith, nice to finally know your name…but, I think you will go by…" Sam paused, pretending to think, "cupcake." Both Sam and Robert laughed. "But, my friend Robert will be calling you his bitch."

Then Sam threw something small at Gregory.

"What the hell is this…pillows?" Gregory looked confused. The two men laughed again.

"No, bitch, they're knee pads. You're going to be reaching for the soap for a long time." Robert said, and then moved to the door to keep lookout for anyone who might be watching. He reached for a shank hiding in the back of his sock and a lighter. He put the flame to the knife, heating it. Gregory started to panic.

"What are you going to do with that?" His voice quivered and his hands started to shake. He tried to get up, not liking the position he was in and hoping to stop what he feared was going to happen.

Robert handed the knife to Sam, who pushed Gregory back down on the bed. Covering the prone man's mouth, he whispered, "I know what your boss did to my brother and my dad…I saw my father's hands and you're going to pay." Pressing the scorching hot knife onto Gregory's face, he smiled as he heard the muffled screams.

Right outside of the cell, one of the guards listened to Gregory's muffled screams of agony; he smiled as his eyes turned red.

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**Three weeks later**

Sam sat in the visitor room, his hands clasped together, waiting patiently for his visitor. He knew his father left a few weeks ago, Dean visited him yesterday, and he wondered who was coming in to see him. He noticed a tall man, about a few inches shorter than himself, with very pale skin, bleached blond hair, almost red eyes, and a smart white suit approaching him. He wondered if this was his visitor.

The man gently pulled-up his trousers and sat down at Sam's table. He gave Sam a few seconds to recognize him, but when that didn't happen, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his card.

"You don't recognize me do you, Sam?" His voice was low, strangely familiar, a bit enticing and frightening at the same time.

Sam scanned the man for a few more seconds, then shook his head. He handed Sam the card

Sam glanced at the man one more time and then down at the card in his hand, "Luke Sullivan, collection agency. Do I owe you money?"

The man laughed a low sinister laugh that gave Sam goose bumps. "It's not money that I'm collecting, Sam. It's something much more _valuable_." Sam stiffened; now he knew who this man was. "Now, you remember our deal."

Sam's face went pale.

"I think we should go over the terms of your end of the deal. Shall we?" The visitor said with a wider grin.

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Dean sat in the diner trying his best to eat his buffalo wing sandwich with only one arm. It had become a huge chore since his other arm was in a sling. Most of his food ended up all over him and he often got stares, which promptly got them the middle finger from the un-injured arm.

He finally finished his meal, paid, and headed back to work. Dean would laugh inwardly every time he said or thought the word 'work'. Man, he never thought he would be here, having an apartment, only for four months, going to work, and staying in the same town for more than what was needed. It was strange, but, oddly enough he was getting use to it, starting to enjoy having a paycheque and a legit way of paying for things.

He was smiling from ear to ear until he opened the door and saw Mr. Sanchez on the other side of the door. He held the door open with his foot, gave the man a death stare and shook his head in disgust. Mr. Sanchez regarded Dean in a similar fashion as he walked past Dean and into the diner. But, Dean couldn't let him get away with hurting his little brother. Sam was innocent and this son of a bitch still thought he killed his hooker daughter. Dean quickly turned around and let the door slam behind him, his face laced with anger.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean roared and the diner went quiet "He didn't do it, and you're still going around like he murdered your whore of a daughter." He really was yelling now and, in the back of his mind, he knew people were watching, but he didn't care. He wanted them to see him embarrass this bastard. Sam was innocent and he would beat the idea into this bastard if he had to.

"You stupid fuck! Your brother killed my little girl, and I will never believe anything else…especially the horrendous accusation that she was a prostitute!" Mr. Sanchez yelled back.

Dean laughed in disgust. This guy really was delusional! "Only time Michelle was a little girl was when she dressed-up as a little school girl before giving her John a blow job." Dean moved closer, raring to go. He may have been one arm short, but he was going to teach this asshole a lesson!

"I'm going to kick your ass, you little shit." Mr. Sanchez spat. Dean laughed.

Mr. Sanchez charged Dean, but was promptly met with Dean's right jab and hit the floor. Looking down at this man on the floor, he felt no remorse. Usually, he may have had some, but, in this case he couldn't even muster a pinkies worth of sympathy for him. Dean walked over to him before he could get up and kicked him hard in the mid-section.

"Sam is innocent, the Sheriff was corrupt, and your daughter was a whore for sale. Got it?" Dean sneered at him and walked-out of the diner.

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**A month Later**

Dean drove the Impala down the same road he had taken for the past three months. He felt the warm air weave through his fingers, blow through his hair and cool his hot sweaty face. Today was the hottest day of the summer, there was a smog alert but, quite frankly, he couldn't care less as his shotgun was riding with him once again. He glanced over to his geek brother to see if he liked his choice of music. Sam was staring out the window, lost in thought. He didn't seem too happy. Dean thought this was strange. Shouldn't his brother be happy to be out, no longer reaching for the soap…he let-out a small shiver. He really hoped his bro held his own and didn't do anything stupid…or gross in prison.

"Renege, it's perfect." Dean smirked, Sam didn't respond, so he nudged him.

"Huh! What?" Sam said as he came back from wherever he was.

"Renege, you just got out of the clink…" Dean's smile disappeared. What the hell was wrong with Sam?

"Hmmm!" Was Sam's only response before resuming his stare out the window.

Dean leaned over and switched the music off. "So, um, is there anything you want to talk about? Sammy…you know you can tell me anything…uh, no need…" Now he was starting to get uncomfortable. How the hell was he going to phrase this without offending Sam?

"You know…to feel…um…ashamed." There, he said it! He took a quick glance at Sam who was still looking out the window.

Sam sat there for a moment, only partially registering what Dean said to him…then it came to him what his brother was saying.

"Huh? What?" He gave his brother a confused look "What do I have to be ashamed about?"

"Come on, Sam," Dean swallowed hard. Why the hell did he bring this up? "You know…" He started to sweat, despite the constant air cooling his face.

"What happens in prison, guys get lonely…" He took another quick look at Sam who had an astonished look on his face.

"Well, Dean…" Sam took a deep breath in, "I have always…you know…had a thing for both sexes." He tried to keep a straight face. This was going to be classic.

"What?" Dean squeaked out, shocked by his brother's revelation and how squeaky his own voice sounded.

"You never knew this, but, when I was in HS, I…kind of experimented…you know." Sam was working over time at keeping himself from cracking-up. "Being in prison…it just brought out all those repressed feelings, you know tight jumpsuits, men working out, shared showers…" Sam lost it, and burst out laughing.

"You little bastard…you were shitting me!" He punched Sam in his arm. It hurt like hell, but, Sam just couldn't stop laughing.

"I hate you." Dean grumbled.

"Oh thanks, Dean, I needed a good laugh." Sam chuckled.

"Hey, it's not my fault you're such a girl, and you make it so easy to believe you're a…fairy," Dean snickered.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

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"Alright, this is the plan, Sammy," Dean said as he entered his apartment. Sam looked around. It was nice; Dean would be happy here.

"We have a good night's sleep and tomorrow we go to down to Kentucky. There were a few mysterious deaths there. We pack tonight and leave first thing in the morning." He reached under his bed and grabbed his duffel. He walked to his dresser to grab his clothes and begin packing.

"I'll be in the bathroom." Sam announced.

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Sam splashed water over his face…his hands were shaking as he looked himself in the mirror. His breathing was heavy. He didn't think he could do this, but he had to; there was really no way out; this was the way it had to be.

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Sam walked out of the bathroom. Dean was still packing with his back to Sam. The younger brother took something out of his pocket; he quickly walked towards his brother and, clamping his hand on Dean's mouth hard, stabbed him in the neck with a syringe. He quickly emptied the contents and dropped the syringe onto the floor.

Holding Dean tightly, he spoke calmly, trying to sooth him. Gently, he put his hand around Dean's waist…there was no way out for him.

"Stop fighting Dean. It's not going to kill you. It's just a sedative. Please just stop fighting. Stay here, find a wife, have two point three kids and forget about me. I'm lost."

Sam choked back a sob as he felt his brother go limp and gently placed him onto the bed. Sam stared at his brother's face briefly and ran his hand through the familiar short, spiked hair. He prayed that Dean really would forget about him, be a human being and not a hunter. He prayed his brother wouldn't come after him.

After making sure that Dean's pulse and heart rate were strong and normal, Sam removed his coat and shoes, picked up the large envelope that was left for him, and left the apartment. He went to the parking lot and shook his head. How the hell was he going to find his car? Removing the keys from the envelope, he held them up, pressed a button on the remote and waited for the familiar beep of the alarm.

He walked over to the Rabbit that had beeped and looked it over. He shook his head at the piece of crap that was left for him. Opening the door, he saw his new leather jacket with red stripes down the arms. He put it on and smiled…it fit well and looked nice on him. Then he put his brand new shoes on, sat in his new piece of shit car; looked over the information he was given and set a course to West Philly. Without a glance at the apartment he'd just left, Sam pulled out of the parking lot. He would never see his brother or his father again…it really was better that way.

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The End

Muhahahahaha!!!!!!


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